The Death of The Crow and The Blackbird
by Bluestarshine
Summary: Time doesn't slow down and there is no flash of light. No memories return, and no goodbyes are spoken. It happens fast and then it's over, and suddenly there is nothing else. No light and no love, only a abyss of emptiness. All stories have an end and this is theirs. There was more to life than this, but they never had the chance to reach it. (Part 2 of Crow & Blackbird Series)
1. Strangers

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and claim nothing. Vampires Diaries is copyright to its respective owners. Nothing is being claimed and no money is being made.**

**PSA: For those who don't know, and are confused, the Abattoir mentioned in New Orleans is a very large building where Niklaus resides. Just in case anyone was confused. Also, for those reading this story for the first time - You will be confused. This is part 3 in the "Crow and Blackbird Series", and as such you will likely have no idea what is occurring. If you want to read this I'd recommend going back to read "The Story of a Crow and a Blackbird", and then "The Brave Ones", and then this story so that it will all make sense.**

**Okay, I'll leave the rest for the A/N at the end of this. Enjoy!**

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><p>From the first moment that he enters the Abattoir, Elijah is aware that Niklaus has company upstairs, company that he is feeding from, and while he would prefer not to interrupt, he needs to speak with his brother urgently and it cannot wait any longer. Elijah moves swiftly upstairs, paying no attention to Niklaus' minions moving around him, completing daily tasks assigned to them, and so on. He takes a left, followed by a right, passing several rooms before reaching the one that he will find Niklaus, and his company, inside of.<p>

His knuckles tap against the door lightly, and he calls out Niklaus' name, only to receive a very encouraging, and loud, response from his brother, urging him to come inside, so he does this. Elijah opens the door and steps inside the large bedroom, his eyes skimming over the room with no care for what is it in. He discovers Klaus standing by the side of the bed, with blood smeared across his bare chest, and a small, knowing smile on his lips, and Elijah knows that his brother is up to something, that he's done something, or is planning on it.

"Niklaus.." Elijah begins tiredly. "You've been busy."

"You've no idea." Klaus answers with a wider smile, eyes flickering towards the bed in delight.

Elijah's eyes follow his brother's gaze, curious. He looks upon the bodies that he'd looked upon when he'd entered the room, and stops, lips parting slightly when he now spots Johanna in the middle of the bed. There are lighter shades of blonde throughout her dark hair, which is still long and curled. She's wearing a plunging, thin black dress with a slit on one side. A pendant with a sharp point hangs around her neck. She lifts her hand to her mouth to wipe the fresh trail of blood away. Her manicured white nails stand out again the red on her skin and lips, and Elijah's eyes quickly asses that all but one ring has been removed from her fingers.

He finds himself rendered speechless. All of this time spent searching for Johanna, and she's been here, in New Orleans. _With Klaus._

"What, no greeting?" Johanna asks, head slightly tilted to the side.

She climbs over the body that she'd just been feeding from, moving to stand on the edge of the bed. Her black dress cascades down, and the slits on the side and the back reveal fresh and dried patches of blood.

"Did you not miss me, Elijah?"

"She has been here, this entire time?" Elijah turns to Klaus, his voice concealed.

"No need to be angry, Elijah. She has been here only a day, if that."

"And the two of you-"

"No, we didn't. Not to any lack of effort on my part." Klaus smiles, throwing a look Johanna's way, before glancing back to Elijah. "She was starving, Elijah. Too hungry to focus on anything, so we fed. She from vampires, and I from humans."

"Before we continue this conversation," Elijah says, gesturing towards the bed. "May we remove them?"

"The humans may leave." Niklaus answers, reaching for his shirt. "But the vampires? You know very well that they cannot, Elijah. She has infected them with the Ripper virus."

Elijah glances back towards Johanna, his eyes set on her. "You knew what you could do, you knew what you would turn them into, yet you fed from them regardless?"

"She is free of humanity, brother." Klaus speaks when silence follows, smile on his lips.

"That is no excuse."

"I think that it is." Johanna responds, taking a step closer. "What is the problem here, Elijah? You hate vampires. You hate vampires feeding from humans. I fed only from vampires-"

"And you believe this makes you less guilty?" Elijah asks coldly, watching her closely.

Johanna turns back towards the bed, and in a few fast movements she pulls the hearts out of the two vampires on the bed, dropping them from her hands and sliding herself back off the bed. She turns back to face Elijah, face bloody, hands dripping with fresh red, and she raises her eyebrows again.

"Am I less guilty now?" she asks. "Now that they won't suffer, am I free of guilt?"

Klaus throws Elijah a look but he ignores it and reaches for his handkerchief, removing it from inside his coat and extending it to Johanna. Her eyes move in an almost mechanical way, down to the handkerchief then back to Elijah. She doesn't reach for it, she just watches him.

"Am I making you uncomfortable, Elijah?" Johanna asks.

He gives a slight shake of his head. "I am more concerned about how uncomfortable you are, Johanna."

"Didn't you get the memo, brother? She doesn't feel anything. She doesn't have her humanity. She's not uncomfortable, because she doesn't feel. I thought you'd be aware of that, considering your desperate search to find her, with the others from Mystic Falls. Including our beloved sister." Klaus says, pausing as a smile crosses his lips. "Oh, no. I'm mistaken. Rebekah jetted off to an exotic location with..Matt Donovan. Didn't she?"

Elijah watches Klaus for a moment, remaining silent as his gaze wavers towards Johanna, who seems to be taking in this information quickly, carelessly. She doesn't take the handkerchief from Elijah, and instead steps forward, her dress clinging to her curves so tightly that Elijah feels the need to avert his gaze, and only look in her eyes. After a minute of holding her gaze passes, Elijah takes the handkerchief and puts it away, knowing that Johanna has no intention of using it. She glances between the brothers before finally speaking.

"I'll leave you boys to it..." Johanna trails off, stepping towards them and moving towards the bathroom, leaving a light trail of bloody footprints behind her.

Klaus takes a step towards the wine but stops when Elijah reaches out, knocking his hand away. He turns to face his brother with a smile still intact on his lips, but his eyes are darker, and his face is much more serious. He moves his hand away from the bottles of wine, and away from Elijah's and straightens up physically, as though he is trying to assert his dominance.

"Why are you here, Elijah? Did the escapades of those children in Mystic Falls finally grow tiresome?" Klaus asks mockingly.

"What are your intentions with Johanna?" he replies swiftly, his words laced with a coldness. "Why is she here? And how long has she been here for?"

"So many questions, Elijah. Questions that I'm sure you already know the answers to."

"Enlighten me with these answers, Niklaus." he says, his voice quiet, but a clear dominance there.

"Johanna appeared in New Orleans..Last night. Late last night. She approached me, Elijah. She was the one who located me. I did not track her down, and she has not been here this entire time, that you've all been searching for her. I do not know where she has been, brother." Klaus says, taking a step forward. "But I am already aware of something: She does not want to be found. That is why she came here. If she wanted to come to you, or to Damon, or to anyone else in Mystic Falls, she would have. But she came here, and for a reason."

Elijah clenches his jaw tightly together, controlling his initial reaction before speaking. "And what reason would that be, Niklaus?"

"She wants to have a good time." Klaus answers, smirk tugging on his lips. "And I can give her that. New Orleans can give her that."

"You forget that she experienced what was undoubtedly one of the worst times of her life in this town, and that was not so long ago. That experience was at your hands. It was _your_ doing. If she truly were looking to have, as you put it, a good time, I doubt that she would return here."

"You're forgetting the current state that she's in, Elijah-"

"No, that would be you, Niklaus. Forgetting her current state would be your undoing." Elijah says, words a warning, for he knows nothing good will come of this.

"My undoing?" Klaus asks, then laughs, but there's a seriousness to it. "Why do you think that I was aiding the search for her, Elijah? Because I wanted to reunite her with Damon? No, I had my own reasons. I still do. And my reasons are far more important than you would believe."

"And what are your reasons?"

Klaus glances towards the bathroom door before he leaves the bedroom, with Elijah following him close behind. He walks until they're far enough away from the bathroom that they can talk with complete privacy.

"What are your intentions with her, Niklaus? You have used her once before. It was revealed that you, and Stefan Salvatore, were responsible for her husband's death. What else can you take from her?"

"You misunderstand me, brother. I don't want to take anything from her, I want to keep her close." Klaus answers, not even remotely touched by the mention of Johanna's deceased husband."Johanna is powerful. She is..Unique. I want to use that. I want to use her powers."

"Her powers?"

"She is the _only_ known vampire that is not an Original who can compel other vampires. She can compel humans who are ingesting vervain, and if this weren't enough, she is a genetically modified Ripper whose bite turns vampires into Rippers. She is physically stronger than much older vampires. I have yet to see if she is as strong as me, and although that is doubtful, she will likely be a strong opponent. And if this were not enough, she was chosen as one of the Five Hunters, and at the time of her transition she lost her memories, but kept her scars. She is special, and I want to use her."

"I will not allow you to use her-"

"You will not allow me?" Klaus asks, laughing again.

Elijah tilts his head slightly to the side. "Does that humor you, Niklaus?"

"You humor me. You come into my town, and you attempt to threaten me-"

"It was not an attempt a threat, Niklaus. It was a threat. Forgive me, I did not intend to be subtle. I shall try again." Elijah says coldly, then takes a step forward, followed by another. "I will not allow you to use someone that you have used before, someone that you broke and now have the intention of breaking once again. I will not allow you to use her, and I will not allow you to hurt her again. Do not be mistaken, this is not an attempt at a threat: This is a threat."

"And what are you threatening me with, Elijah? You can't kill me, and even if you could, we both know that you would not. Putting Johanna aside, we are brothers, we are family. You would not kill me."

Elijah gives a subtle shake of his head, his posture rigid, stiffer. "So confident, Niklaus"

"That is because I am. What else do you have to threaten me with? A threat usually implies that you will hurt someone that I care about, or take something away from me. Who can you hurt that I care about? There is no one."

"Caroline."

Klaus smiles again, but it's forced, and it comes across as dangerous, unstable. "You would not hurt her, you know that would hurt Matt Donovan, and that in turn would upset our dear sister. You would not do that to an innocent, either, and Caroline is as innocent as they come. Who else? You may try to find someone, but I doubt that you will. And there is nothing that you have the power or the desire to take from me."

"How do you intend to use her?" Elijah asks, almost struggling to ask the question, but he needs to know, has to know so he can do something to stop it.

"Against Isaiah." Klaus responds, turning to walk away. "And that is all that you need to know at the current time, Elijah."

"I will not let you do this."

"I don't see that you have much of a choice, Elijah." he replies, and as he turns towards the doorway a figure appears.

Elijah's eyes follow the movement, and he discovers Johanna entering the room, dressed in a tight tan dress, with black markings over it, and tall, lace black heels to match. The blood is gone from her skin, as though it was never there, and she continues to wear only the one ring.

"Well?" she asks, eyes skimming over the brothers.

Klaus smiles and skims his eyes over her, turning to look at Elijah, who watches the two of them with one eyebrow slightly raised. He remains silent, lips pressed together, almost pouted in an unimpressed way. Klaus shakes his head and turns back to Johanna, still smiling.

"If looks could kill..." Klaus says, moving to walk past her. "My brother will entertain you today. I've business I need to attend to. Whatever you need in this town is yours."

"How generous." Johanna comments, holding his gaze.

Klaus lifts his hands in the air slightly, grinning. "If I am known for anything it is my generosity."

"That is entirely false." Elijah says coldly, unimpressed.

"Forgive my brother, he's in a terrible mood. Do try your best to lighten it, Johanna?"

She smiles, pressing her red lips together as she gives a simple nod of her forehead. Klaus watches her for a moment later, before disappearing and leaving the two of them alone. There is a tense, almost harsh silence between them after Klaus leaves, and Johanna breaks it by walking towards Elijah, her heels hitting the ground, the only noise between them for a minute.

"Johanna..." Elijah sighs, tilting his head to the side. "What are you doing here?"

"What do you think of this dress, Elijah?" Johanna asks, taking a step back, placing one hand on her hip.

Elijah wears a frown on his forehead as Johanna gestures to the dress, moving her hips slightly, back and forth for a moment.

"It's a simple question."

"Why?" he responds flatly.

"I borrowed it, and I want to know what you think of it." she answers, looking down at her body for a moment.

"Borrowed it from whom?" Elijah asks, then answers his own question. "From one of the women in the room."

"A vampire. She won't be needing it anymore." Johanna lifts her head back up, her curls hitting her bare shoulders. "I don't like it, but it was this or one of your brother's shirts, and his style isn't half as nice as yours, Elijah. I would rather wear nothing than one of his shirts."

"What are you doing here, Johanna?" Elijah asks, fighting the urge to take her by the wrist and take her from this town. "You don't belong here. This isn't you, you know that."

"It's the dress, isn't it? It doesn't look like me, does it?" Johanna sighs, and then fixes a smile on her lips. "Whatever I want is mine in this town, according to your brother. I need clothes. Will you join me while I shop? Don't feel obliged to, Elijah. I'm sure I can find another vampire, to spend some quality time with."

"When I made the statement that I did not believe _this_ was you, I was not referring to your current choice of clothes, and you are aware of that. You are aware of what I was implying-"

"Are you going to join me or not, Elijah?"

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><p>"<em>We need to get him out of the sunlight. He's not wearing a ring."<em>

The voices and faces move past Damon in fast, unrecognizable blurs, that he eventually follows to a bedroom on the first level of the Boarding House. The room is still and silent, disturbed by their presence. Jeremy rushes to pull the curtains shut, while Stefan lowers Alaric's burned body down on to the large bed, and all that Damon can do is watch.

Helplessly, he watches on as Jeremy closes the curtains entirely, and Stefan leans over the bed by Alaric's side. He's still groaning on the bed, but from where Damon stands he can see that his burned skin is healing – He's obviously still a vampire. _Why is he in so much pain if his wounds are healing?_

"What's wrong with his skin?" Jeremy asks, a little too loudly.

"He's been desiccating. He needs blood." Stefan throws him a glance, then looks back to Alaric, who is lying on his side, wheezing.

Jeremy's breathing is heavy, and unstable, but he manages to form words. "I'll go. I'll go get it, because you two – I'll get it."

The world moves in slow, almost still movements for Damon, who considers taking a step closer, towards the bed, but finds that he can't. He can't move his legs for a moment, and he's not sure why but he doesn't fight it, because he can't, he's not strong enough. He can't do this because it can't be real, it can't be happening.

"_Damon_."

The first time that his name is called out, Damon believes that it is his brother calling out his name, or someone else, because it has been _so_ long since he has heard this voice. He doesn't recognize it, or at least he tells himself that he doesn't, because his ears haven't heard it in what feels like centuries. But soon he registers the voice, the words, who it's all coming from, and the reality of the situation dawns on him.

It becomes real for Damon in this second, and he moves towards the bed just as Jeremy returns with blood for Alaric, and almost in synchronization, both Salvatore's step back from the bed and from the blood bags, turning their backs to it, as though that's a simple enough solution to stop the urges. They both know it's not.

"Try not to spill any blood." Stefan announces, and it almost sounds like a plea.

Jeremy opens up the blood bag and awkwardly tries to help Rick feed, but Rick reaches for his wrist and presses it to his lips, tearing open the skin and feeding from it. A painful groan shoots through Jeremy's lips, and Damon and Stefan spin around almost in synchronization, again, to find Alaric feeding hungrily from Jeremy.

Damon darts forward and pulls Jeremy back, causing Jeremy to cry out louder, because the sudden movement caused Alaric to tear open the flesh of his wrist and palm. He falls back beside Stefan, and Damon throws them both a brief glance, before moving to keep Rick pinned down on the bed, as he struggles to get more blood.

"Ric, Ric – No." Damon says quickly, holding him down against the bed.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Alaric says quickly, speaking for the first time since he arrived here.

His body is shaking so frequently, so intensely, that Damon decides to stay there, keeping him against the bed until he's calmed down, until he's not shaking anymore. Alaric breathes out heavily and leans back against the bed more, reaching for the blood bags weakly, his skin still pale – he clearly hasn't fed in months.

"Here." Damon says quickly, moving to open the blood bag. He presses it against Ric's mouth, keeping it there with one hand while he leaves the other pressed to his chest. "It's okay. It's fine. Jeremy's fine. Aren't you, Jer?"

When he receives no response, Damon throws another look over his shoulder, only to find that Jeremy has vanished from the room and Stefan is now standing on his own, a few feet away. His eyes are focused on the blood bag, and Damon rolls his eyes and turns away.

"_Go_. Just go."

"I don't want to leave-" Stefan begins, quickly stopping.

"Go until he's fed. Go find Jeremy. Then come back." Damon calls out, turning quickly to Alaric, who is still speaking quietly, rushed.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Alaric says quickly, words hushed, low.

"Shut up. Stop wasting your energy, and stop saying sorry."

"Damon?" Alaric stops fighting, and slowly looks up.

"Didn't you hear me, you idiot? Stop talking, and stop moving. You're wasting your energy. You have fed in...Such a long time, Ric. You're severely desiccated. You need blood, and it's okay that you fed from Jeremy. He's the first human that you've fed from in months. So take a minute, calm down, and let me take a minute to calm the hell down because this is crazy."

Alaric nods and relaxes more against the bed, his body still shaking, with hunger or shock Damon isn't sure, all that he knows is that he's shaking so much. He steadies Ric back against the bed more, moving so that he's kneeling down beside the bed, one hand still pressed across Ric's chest.

"You're here." Damon mutters breathlessly, eyes wide, lips parted with shock.

He can't believe it, even now, as he can see Alaric right in front of him, and feel him, he doesn't believe that this is really happening. Damon doesn't understand how this is happening, and as much as he wants answers, he won't ask his questions yet. The priority now is to give Alaric blood, and help him to feed without going into overdrive, then they need to help him relax. Any questions that they have will wait until after they've taken care of Alaric.

"Damon?"

"Didn't you hear me?" he sighs, looking back down at Alaric. "You desiccated. You need blood, you look terrible, Ric. You're really weak right now, and maybe this weakness is preventing you from understanding simple instructions: Don't speak. You're too weak to speak."

"I'm not." Alaric disagrees, trying to speak.

"Oh, I think you are, buddy."

"Johanna?" Alaric tries to sit up suddenly, more alert. "Where – Where is she? Damon, where is she?"

"Hey, idiot. Listen." Damon says, steadying both of his hands on Ric's chest. "Just stop for a minute and listen to me. No one ever does, so take this as a rare opportunity to. Okay? You need to take care of yourself, you're exhausted. We'll figure it all out eventually."

"Okay." Alaric agrees after a minute, once again relaxing against the bed.

His eyes shut after a moment and he, unexpectedly, reaches for Damon's hand on top of his chest and holds it, grip tightening on it when the pain worsens.

"You're in pain. Aren't you?" Damon asks. "Don't answer that, save your strength. I can tell that you're in pain, and desiccating is awful, but you shouldn't be..Like this. In pain."

"I have the blood." Stefan announces when he enters the room, quickly shutting the door behind him.

Damon looks over his shoulder, frowning when he notices that Stefan is alone, Jeremy isn't with him, he should have returned with the blood. When Stefan reaches the bed he places the blood bags down on the nightstand, and he looks down at Damon who stands slowly.

"Where's Jeremy?" he asks quietly, still holding Alaric's hand.

"He couldn't – He's in shock. He's just...Sitting down in the hallway." Stefan whispers, looking up at his brother.

"Ric asked-"

"Ric can hear you." Alaric manages to say, words coming out low, muffled.

"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.." Damon trails off briefly. "If you can hear so well, then listen to these next words very carefully, and follow my instructions: Shut up and save your strength, you desiccated, dumb, Original Vampire."

"Here." Stefan sighs, moving to the bed.

Damon steps back and breaks the contact with Alaric, and he watches on silently as Stefan presses the blood bag to Alaric's lips, and helps him drink the blood. He consumes the entire bag in a matter of seconds, and breathes heavily after, hungry for much more than that.

"He doesn't look any better, Stefan. He just had blood, he should look..Better."

"I'm still here." Alaric says weakly.

"He's only had one bag of blood, Damon. Give it time. We'll give him some more blood, and if it doesn't improve..."

"What? What follows that? What happens if he doesn't improve?" Damon asks, almost panicked. "We don't have a back-up plan, Stefan."

"Calm down." Stefan says quietly. "You just need to calm down, Damon-"

"Calm down? Stefan, he's-"

"Still here. Still..Here." Alaric comments quickly.

Stefan returns from the nightstand with another bag of blood, and Damon watches on silently, almost helplessly again, as Alaric drinks a second bag of blood, and then a third, and then he's on his sixth bag and he doesn't look any better. His skin is still pale and darker, he's still shaking, and he's still weaker than he should be for an original vampire.

"Go check on Jeremy, I'll stay here." Damon says flatly, a moment later. His words come out slow, quiet. "There's nothing we can do right now."

Stefan sighs, frowning. "Damon.."

"Go make sure Jeremy's okay. Please."

After a moment of hesitating, Stefan steps away from his brother's side, and Damon looks away from him, hearing his footsteps leave the room, and the door eventually close behind him. He looks back to Ric, who is trying to sit up on the bed. Damon moves to help him, fixing up pillows behind his head to make it a more comfortable position for him to rest in.

"Your super hearing failed you when I said don't move?" Damon asks flatly, reaching for another blood bag.

He opens it and offers it to Alaric, moving to sit on the bed beside him while he drinks the blood quickly. Damon observes Alaric closely while he drinks from the blood, eyes skimming over him, he realizes that Alaric's still wearing the same clothes he was when he died. This hits Damon hard, and he has to look away, focusing on anything else right now.

Alaric lets out a loud sigh when he finishes this blood bag, dropping the empty bag on to the bed. Damon picks it up and puts the empty bag away on the nightstand with the others, reaching for another bag, only to stop when Alaric's hand reaches out to stop him.

"Damon?"

His name sounds desperate, lost, as it escapes Alaric's lips, and Damon can't not answer, he can't not look to his best friend. He turns to face him, silent as he catches Alaric's dull eyes studying his face closely, like he's searching for some sort of truth in his eyes.

"What?" Damon asks quietly, reluctantly.

Somehow, he already knows what Alaric is going to ask, and he already knows how difficult answering this question is going to be, but he can't hide from it and he can't run from it.

"Where is Johanna?"

Damon knew these words were coming, he knew that he would have to answer this question, and he knew that Alaric would want answers – he just had no idea that it would be in a situation like this, with Alaric suddenly back and alive, in need of help. He never thought he'd have to answer this question looking at Alaric's face, and Damon honestly never believed that he would see his best friend again.

"Damon?" Alaric says quietly, weakly.

"If I answer this, you have to promise to shut up after this."

Alaric refuses, almost shaking his head. "No."

"You need rest, you idiot."

"Where is my sister, Damon?"

"She's gone, Ric. I don't know where she is right now. You know what happened, how she turned her humanity off..She disappeared. She ran, and no one can find her. We haven't been able to locate her, yet. We have leads, we will find her. You sort of..Got in the way of our plans."

"So, what you're saying is.." Alaric trails off briefly. "My unexpected return from the Other Side put a bump in your plan to find my humanity less sister, the one that you are all responsible for being in this state?"

"Ric.."

"I'm tired, and I'm in a lot of pain." Alaric tiredly shuts his eyes, his hands resting by his side as his faces wears the same tight expression of pain. "I just had to know..Where she was. I don't want to do this right now."

"Okay, we don't have to do it. Not now." Damon says quietly, carefully. He takes a step back, hesitating. "We need to get you in some clean clothes. And we need to get you some more blood."

"I got some clothes." Stefan announces as he enters the room, carrying a pile of clothes. "But it can wait. Ric needs to rest first, he can change later."

"I'm not leaving him, Stefan."

Stefan nods, understanding. "I know, and I'm not asking you to, Damon. I just need to talk to you for a minute."

"Really, Stefan? My best friend just came back from the dead? Can't it wait?"

"Okay." he answers after a moment, setting the clothes down on the edge of the bed. "Don't worry about it, Damon. It can wait until later."

"Good." Damon replies flatly, dragging a chair towards the side of the bed and moving to sit in it. He throws a look over his shoulder as he hears Stefan leave the room, and stares at the emptiness for a minute, until his eyes flicker back to Alaric's resting figure on the bed.

Alaric groans and opens his eyes slightly, still frowning. "What?"

"I didn't say anything." Damon answers, crossing one leg over the other. He leans back in the chair, and tries to sit comfortably, but he can't so he leans forward, but that doesn't work either, so he ends up standing, and then sitting again.

"Just say it, Damon."

"Okay, I will. I'll say it. And you don't have to talk. You're tired, you don't want to do this right now, and you don't have to. Let me talk. Just let me talk, and try to explain it." Damon says, his hands moving around in the air as he talks. He drops them to his side, the sighs. "I know you probably already know things, you probably saw things-"

"The last thing that I saw was when I was here." Alaric admits. "Before the veil went up. When I was here.."

"Wait, you haven't seen things since then? Where have you been?" Damon asks, then notices the tired look on his friend's face. "Okay, forget it. Forget about that now. We have the time to talk about that once you're better. You're not supposed to be talking now, anyway. You're supposed to be resting, so rest, and just listen to me."

Ric sighs, silently giving his acceptance, so Damon moves to sit on the edge of the bed. He doesn't feel as though he can sit still, he doesn't want to sit at all, but he does and once he's seated he looks up at Alaric, feeling the pressure of the situation. The disappointment is clear in his friend's eyes, and as much as he tries to fight it and pretend that he can't see it, it's still there.

"I knew that we'd have this conversation eventually. I knew we'd have to. I just didn't expect it to be face to face, like this, with you suddenly back from the dead with no explanation. But you're here, and I have to give you something. I have to explain it, and I want to, but I don't think you'd understand, Ric. I don't think anyone understands." Damon says, quietly at first. He almost smiles. "And that's not me trying to back away from this. I have to answer for the things that I've done, the things that I did to your sister: Lying to her, keeping things from her, hurting her, I've done it all and I have to step up and admit that. This is me standing up to admit it. I admit it. I did those things, and I can't change what I've done."

"Why didn't you just tell her the truth, Damon? Why didn't you just tell her that you used her to save Jeremy? Or that you wiped her from my memory?" Alaric asks, words coming out choked, shaky. His eyes are watering slightly, and his hands are shaking again. "There are things that I want to say to you. I want to punch you in the face right now, for what you did to me, wiping my own sister from my memories, and for what you did to her, but I am exhausted, and I'm trying to listen to you talk about Johanna right now. So keep talking, Damon."

Unable to sit, Damon stands from the bed again, almost tempted to pour himself a drink to get through this. He turns back to Alaric, who is still resting on his back, with his eyes half-opened. He looks exhausted, and in desperate need of rest, but Damon knows that Alaric won't be able to rest until he hears this.

"Johanna found out..Things." Damon says, clenching his jaw tightly together. "About how we planned to use her for the Hunter's mark. She found out a lot of things, and it pushed her to turn her humanity off. Max forced her. Your deranged half-brother. And let's not start on that, because that is a long, and very twisted story. The point is: Johanna ran after she turned her humanity off. No one could stop her. Stefan couldn't... But he was with her, or he claimed to be. He saw her, and she spoke to him. She's still alive, and she's out there. We'll find her and we'll bring her home."

"Home?" Alaric asks after a few minutes pass. "You think that this place, this town, is her home?"

Damon glances down. "We'll find her. Then when we get her to turn her humanity back on, it's her choice."

Alaric keeps his gaze settled on Damon. ""What if we can't?"

"That's not an option." Damon answers, shaking his head briefly as he meets Alaric's gaze. "We'll get her back. She'll turn her humanity on, and then it's her choice."

"Seems like you have it all planned out, Damon. The only thing you're missing is giving her a choice."

"What?" he frowns slightly.

"You'll get her back. You'll make her turn her humanity on. Then you'll give her a choice." Alaric says quietly, eyes slowly closing. "What if she doesn't want to come back? What if she doesn't want to turn it back on?"

"The thing is, Ric: She's not thinking clearly because she doesn't have her humanity. She doesn't know what she wants right now, but the Johanna I know, the one that you knew, she wouldn't want this and you know that. She never wanted to be a vampire, but she was slowly accepting it, what she had to do. She would _never_ want to have her humanity turned off, because when she felt things, like love, and life, it was beautiful, and she was alive even when she was dead – and that's why we have to help her feel those things again."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hey lovelies! Thanks for reading my story. I hope you're enjoying this. I really can't explain how excited I am for this fic, and for all the things that I have planned for it. I am so happy to have Johanna back, she is my fave and I hope you're happy to have her back to. I also don't think I can express how excited I am to have the Mikaelson's - Yes, all three! Elijah, Klaus & Rebekah - as mains in this story. It's going to be one crazy ride, I promise you! But it's going to (hopefully) be really enjoyable for you all reading it. Matt will be back, and he's going to get his own arc in this story! I want to spoil more for you all but I won't! I'll just leave it at that!

So basically, this story is going to be following two different stories - what's happening with Johanna, and what's happening in Mystic Falls. And yes, I promise, the two stories will cross over and Johanna will see the group again sooner than you think! I'm not really sure what else I should say here, except I'm thankful for your support and it helps more than you think.

Enjoy & let me know what you think! And please check out the blog for this story, there's a link on my profile on here. It has lots of info for the story. :)

**x**

**P.s Don't worry, Charlotte WILL be back eventually (In case anyone was worried..) **

**:)**


	2. Fighting Ghosts

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and claim nothing. Vampires Diaries is copyright to its respective owners. Nothing is being claimed and no money is being made.**

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><p>The silhouette of a candle burning in the darkness is the first thing that Cedric's eyes see when they open, almost a blurry haze covering his vision at first, until it disappears and he can see it all clearly. He doesn't recognize the room that he's inside, and struggles to sit up, panicked, because his last memories were when he was inside the basement, strapped down to an operating table. A feeling of panic sets in and Cedric sits up too quickly, his side aching from the movement that causes an involuntary groan of pain to escape his lips. Hearing noise from outside, distant voices that he can't quite make out anymore, he tries to get to his feet, and quickly begins to remove the blankets covering.<p>

Footsteps grow nearer, and Cedric's breathing becomes shakier, his eyes skimming the room for some sort of weapon that he can't find. He decides that he'll just have to use his hands, and attempts to pull himself out of the bed, but discovers that his legs are weak, and the pain in his side is so bad, he falls to the ground and hits it loudly. The door to the room opens and he glances up, through the mess of shaggy light hair that has fallen over his face, covering his eyes. Meredith appears, quickly kneeling in front of him.

"Cedric, what are you doing up?"

He pulls away from her and leans back against the side of the bed, his hand moving to his side, where he soon discovers that his wound has been bandaged. His hand rests on his bare skin, and he frowns, glancing up at her.

"It's okay, Cedric. It's me." Meredith says slowly, moving a little closer.

Cedric's body jerks away from her, an instinct. He frowns at her while attempting to determine if this is real, or if this is another dream, another hallucination of his.

"This is real, Cedric. Okay? I found you. We found you. You're at Matt's house. You're safe here. You're just..Recovering, because of what happened."

"This is real?" he asks, still frowning at her. "You're here? This time it's real?"

"This time it's real." Meredith answers, almost smiling. "It's real. We saved you."

After observing her for a minute, Cedric's dry lips form a smile, that spreads across his face and reveals almost all of his teeth. He laughs and moves forward, pulling her towards him, to his chest. Meredith is clearly taken aback by the gesture, but she quickly moves into the embrace, wrapping her arms around him softly. He smiles and pulls her tighter to him, and Meredith smiles, unsure of why he's laughing.

"Why are you laughing?" Meredith asks, slightly concerned by the fact that he is laughing.

"Because you're here." he says, holding her a little closer, hands shaking slightly. "You're here this time. You're really here."

"This time?"

Cedric pulls back, and continues to smile at her. "You're here, Meredith."

"I am here." she assures him, words gentle, soft. "You're okay."

"You're okay." he repeats quietly, moving his hand to her cheek. He keeps it there for a moment before sighing, embracing her once more, only briefly.

"I'm okay, and you're okay, so now we need to get you into bed."

"That's a little forward, Meredith. I feel like we just met, and you already want to get me into bed. At least buy me dinner first, sweetheart." Cedric says with a grin.

"Some things don't change." she says with a smile, putting her arm around him.

Slowly, Meredith assists Cedric in standing from the floor and helps him get back on to the bed. Once he's lying down she pulls the blankets up, and moves to sit down beside him. The smile is gone from his face now, and he's silent for a second.

"I know what happened." Meredith says, speaking before he has the chance to, so he won't have to if he can't. "When the veil was gone, with Katherine, and Silas. Katherine revealed it all to Damon. I know that you're not a hybrid anymore, and that somehow a Rosenberg found you."

"That's not how it happened." he shakes his head, words quiet.

"What do you mean?"

Cedric coughs to clear his throat, then rubs it. "My throat.."

Meredith picks up a glass of water, returning to his side. She offers him the glass and then assists him in drinking from it slowly, and when he's finished she sets it back on the nightstand.

"Are you hungry?" she asks, sitting back down on the bed beside him.

Cedric shakes his head slowly. "No, not really. Not right now. I just.. I feel.."

"What?" Meredith asks, voice quiet. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know. Empty.. I feel sick. I don't know."

"You don't have to know." Meredith reaches out for his hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "You don't have to focus on that right now. All that you have to do right now is focus on recovering. That's all you have to do now. And I want you to know, in case you hear it and think it's someone else – Tyler is here too. You remember Tyler? Well, he's here. He helped me bring you here."

"How long have I been back here?" Cedric asks, studying her expression, her movements.

"Not long." she answers. "You've been sleeping a lot."

His eyes widen as he notices the blood on her, and his entire body tenses up noticeably, becoming rigid. "Meredith, you're covered-"

"That was the next thing I was going to tell you. I'm fine, really. It was just – It was something that happened, but Tyler helped me. And Damon, he helped me and you. He helped." Meredith says, soothing her hand gently over his, in a reassuring way. "You've missed a lot, and I'll tell you all of it soon, but right now the most important thing now is that you focus on yourself. You need to recover. You need to sleep, and you might not be hungry, but you need to eat. And I know, you're probably in shock because you're not a hybrid anymore. So take your time, and now that I'll be here with you. We're all here."

"I was at the school, it was when the veil went down. I'd been fighting off..Ghosts, and I went to the school because – I don't remember why, but I was there and I was looking for someone." Cedric says suddenly, his breathing becoming a little heavier. "And he was there."

"Silas?"

He nods slowly, still holding on to her hand "And then later..Much later, I woke up. I was in the school, and Katherine was waking up beside me. We actually helped each other outside."

"Katherine helped you?"

"We were both weak, stunned. She was worse, because she was older. Silas forced her the cure first, but not before he turned..Into me. Then he forced me to take it. I don't know what happened next. I just woke up, and Katherine was there. And we helped each other outside. It was a bad storm. There was so much rain, and wind, and lightning." Cedric says quietly. "We ran into the woods. We didn't know where else to go, nothing was open, we couldn't get into any stores, or anywhere for shelter..Because we didn't have our strength anymore. We were both weak. I remembered the tombs in the forest, so we ran there for shelter. But we didn't make it there."

"Why? How did you get taken?" Meredith asks, then stops. "Katherine left you, even though you helped her get out? She left you behind?"

Cedric shakes his head, but only slightly. "No, that's not what happened. There was a Hunter in the woods, he was in a black jacket and he had a crossbow. I helped Katherine get away, and I got away from him eventually."

"That's what the wound on your stomach is from? It's from the Hunter, he shot with the crossbow? I thought that it was an arrow wound, but I wasn't sure how that was possible."

"He did but I got away, and I helped Katherine get away...And then I ran into him in the woods." Cedric admits, voice tense. "That man, from the Grill. The owner. Robert."

"Cedric, he's-"

"Dead. I know, I killed him."

Meredith frowns, and watches him closely. "What? Why did – I don't understand."

Cedric pulls his hand away, sitting upright. "You don't understand what it was like, to be out there. After I just took the cure. It was all - " he stops suddenly, sighing with frustration. "I thought I was dying, Meredith. I thought I was dying, and then I saw him, and he was afraid but I didn't believe him. I thought he was lying. I thought it was Silas again. So I killed him and I tried to run, but the Hunter caught up with me and gave me to Natasha."

"You thought he was Silas. You didn't-"

"I killed him. It wasn't fast, Meredith, I wasn't a Hybrid anymore. I was – I am human." Cedric says, stammering slightly. "It was slow. I broke his neck with my hands, and then I left him..And I should have known. I should have known it wasn't Silas, but I couldn't think. I couldn't see it clearly. Anything.."

"Hey, stop. Stop, okay? Stop blaming yourself." Meredith reaches out for his hand again. "You didn't do anything wrong. You thought he was Silas, and you reacted in a way that is understandable. You were trying to save your life, save everyone's lives. You didn't kill him because you have malice, or evil, in your heart. You did it from the good part inside of you, the part that just wanted to protect other people. Silas isn't human. You weren't doing anything wrong by trying to get rid of him. You don't have to think about that, or him, again because he's gone. Bonnie destroyed him. She got rid of him, and they got rid of him."

"You can't get rid of Silas. Not unless he consumes the cure, Meredith."

"He didn't take it?"

"No, it was just us. He can't be killed without it."

Meredith shakes her head slowly, then squeezes his hand reassuringly. "Well, Bonnie found a way. She did it. She found a way to destroy him. He's gone."

"I need to see it. I need to see where they put him, with my own eyes."

"No, Cedric, you can't. Not now. Not today while you're healing. He's gone, he's not coming back. And I promise you, when you're better someone will show you proof. You'll see proof, and then you can rest easy. Okay?"

"Okay." Cedric answers slowly, after a minute. "How did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Find me. You said you found me."

"You don't remember any of it?" she asks, recalling the events silently.

"Did she hurt you?" Cedric asks quietly, hand moving to her face briefly.

Meredith shakes her head. "No, no she didn't. I tracked Natasha down to the house that I found you in. I was searching for her. No one knew that you were missing, Cedric. No one knew, and we didn't know where to look. I knew that you weren't just gone, that you wouldn't leave, but Damon was convinced that you ditched us all."

"I didn't – I wouldn't have left any of you after that."

"I know that, I do. I was looking for Natasha and I went downstairs, to the basement. She must have knocked me out, because I woke up later strapped to a table, and you were there on the table, right next to me. You weren't awake. You were bleeding, and you looked..So pale. And I just knew that something wasn't right." Meredith answers, hesitating as she recalls other memories. "You weren't alone in there. Max was there, in a cage."

"I know, I remember." Cedric responds, still seeming tense. "She never took him out of the cage, though."

"Because it was a trick."

He frowns, deeply confused. "What? What was a trick?"

"Max confessed that he was working with Natasha. She wanted to find Damon and Johanna, she still does, and she needed a way back to them. You and I, we were Natasha's connection to them." she admits quietly, moving to hold his hand again. "Elijah found me, when I was down there. He saved my life and he saved yours, and it was because Klaus asked him to look."

"But he didn't look for me himself?" Cedric asks, words flat, not surprised.

"No, Klaus didn't look for you. He's been..Looking for someone else."

"Meredith, who's missing? Is it Jeremy? Or Elena?"

"No, it's not. They're both okay. Elena left town for a while with Bonnie, they should be back soon. They both needed a break, especially Bonnie, she was drained from everything that she had to do when the veil went down."

"Who's missing, then? Enzo?" he asks, worried.

"No, Enzo's not missing."

"Johanna?" Cedric asks, and then reads the answer on her face. He sits up straighter, clearly more agitated. "Johanna's missing? What – How did this happen? What happened?"

"It's really complicated, so I'm just going to keep it simple. I don't want to stress you out."

"Meredith, what happened to Johanna?"

Meredith is silent for a minute, considering her next words very carefully. "She turned her humanity off, Cedric."

"What? Why?"

"It was right before the veil went up." Meredith replies, deciding to be honest. "Max tricked me into getting inside Alaric's apartment. He told me that he was Enzo, and I'd never met Enzo before so I didn't know. He was so convincing, so I invited him inside and he attacked me with a knife."

Cedric tenses up even more, a dark rage filling his tired eyes. "Is he dead? Because if he's not, he's going-"

"Please, just calm down. I'm okay now, I really am." she says soothingly, holding his hand a little tighter. "Max lured Johanna inside, and from what Stefan and Caroline have told me, he then eventually forced her into turning her humanity off."

"How did he force her into turning her humanity off?"

"He knew things. Secrets. Painful things. He used it against her, and she couldn't handle it. She turned it off, and then she ran from town. No one has seen her since. Johanna sent me a message once, a plan to meet at the lake-house, but she never showed up. Damon said that she was just screwing with his head, that she never had any intention of showing up, and I don't know if I believe that or not. I want to believe she was going to show up, but she didn't, and things aren't exactly okay between those two. So many she was screwing with him. I don't know. I don't know where she is, or if she's okay, but she's gone, and she's been gone since that night."

After a moment of silently attempting to take in this information, Cedric releases a small sigh and eases back down against the pillow, his body still aching, and his mind now racing with a million more thoughts than it had been before – if that was even possible. He looks back to Meredith a moment later, and discovers that she is watching him intently with her soft, light eyes.

"Seems like I missed a lot." Cedric comments, breaking the silence.

"Yes, you did. You really did."

"I can help now-"

"You need to take care of yourself first. You come first." Meredith says, hesitating briefly. "There's something else you need to do, and you probably won't like it."

"If you're insisting that I need to take a shower, and that I need to do it with you, I won't oblige." he says, almost playfully. "Whatever the doctor orders."

Meredith's lips curve into a small smile, and she shakes her head with disbelief. "You are dealing with this much better than I thought that you would be."

"No, I'm not. I'm not dealing with it, because I can't." Cedric admits, half-smile still lingering on his lips. "I can't deal with it right now. Everything that I was, everything that I felt as a Hybrid, it's gone and I feel so empty. I hated being human. I was weak. I am weak. I can't deal with that, so I'm living in denial land and you are more than welcome to join me right now, Meredith."

"I can't. I'm needed in reality town right now. But I might stop by and visit you every now and then." she says, smiling at him softly as she readjusts the blankets around him. "Now, what I need you to do right now is stay quiet. Stay unnoticed in town."

"Why?"

"If people want you, because you're a cured hybrid, they will come for you. Natasha said she has buyers lined up for you. That means you need to stay hidden. There are only two people that know you're here apart from me: Tyler and Damon. And I know what you're thinking about Damon, but he won't tell anyone that you're here. You need to recover, and you need to do it without anyone knowing you're alive. That means no one else can know you're here."

"I understand." Cedric replies quietly. "I don't really feel like..Being around anyone right now. Except maybe you. You're not so bad, if you'd stop looking at me with those big, pity filled eyes."

"Sorry, I'll try to stop it. Or if you want, I can leave." she

"No, please don't leave. Not yet."

Meredith stops and smiles, nodding slowly. "I won't leave yet, but if I'm staying that means you have to let me take care of you. That means you have to eat something, and drink plenty of fluids. That's the deal. Do you accept it or not?"

"Okay." Cedric agrees slowly. "I accept it for now."

* * *

><p>The streets of the French Quarter are busy as Johanna and Elijah make their way through the crowds, not walking too closely together, with Johanna leading the way towards a boutique that she was insisting that they visit. She leads the way, eyes skimming the streets, the people and the sights carelessly, in search of this one store.<p>

"Why is it you are in need of new clothes, Johanna?" Elijah asks, walking behind her. "You had a perfectly fine set back in Mystic Falls. It would not be a long journey back. Have you considered returning for your clothes, and for other reasons? I could drive you home, if you wished?"

"Oh, right. I remember where it is." Johanna sighs, turning back to face him. She fixes a small smile on her lips, and gestures in the way of the store. "The store is this way. I remember now, Elijah."

"Johanna, did you not hear me?" he questions, appearing unimpressed, almost annoyed.

She turns away and begins walking down the streets, slipping past strangers, and moving unnoticed through crowds.

"Walk with me, Elijah."

"You are very demanding-"

"Am I?" Johanna glances up as he joins her side. "What is it that I'm demanding of you?"

"If you had allowed me to continue, I would have proceeded to say that you are very demanding of my company, yet you have not spoken more than a few words to me since we left the Abattoir."

She continues to watch him for a second, before glancing away and fixing her eyes on the street ahead, the people in her vision becoming blurs she doesn't care for. Elijah continues to watch her as they walk together, his gaze doesn't make her uncomfortable, it doesn't make her feel anything, so she doesn't comment on it.

"What do you want to talk about, Elijah?"

"Where have you been?"

"Here and there." Johanna answers coldly, ignoring his unwavering gaze.

"And where exactly is here and there, Johanna?"

"Here is New Orleans. There is Boston, and Mystic Falls."

"You ventured to Boston? To do what?"

"There is the store, Elijah. I'd ask you to come inside, but I don't want to be too demanding." Johanna stops, briefly glancing at him before turning towards the boutique. "You have your own free will. Join me, or leave me. The choice is yours."

Johanna glances back towards the boutique a moment later. She looks through the tall, large glass windows of the store, and peers in at the shoes and dresses on display inside. Soon she enters the store, pushing open the large glass door and stepping inside, her heels hitting the old, dark wooden floorboards. Large,exotically decorated rugs stand beneath marble tables with black, curled stands.

The interior of the store is elegantly and expensively decorated, with intricate white walls, and a large, modern chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The room smells like fresh lavender, and there are several tall candles placed throughout the room. There's a woman behind the elegant, smooth brown desk, with tanned skin and light eyes. The woman approaches Johanna a minute later, but Johanna refuses any assistance and waits until the glass door behind her shuts, and the sound of footsteps follows, before she turns around to face Elijah.

"Why did you go to Boston?" Elijah asks.

Johanna walks towards one of the metal clothes racks, that stands beside a large, wooden vanity, covered with expensive jewelry, bags, and other elegant accessories. She eyes it off quickly before sorting through the stand, flicking through the clothes until certain pieces catch her interest.

"Klaus said that I could take what I wanted. I want a lot of things. I wonder how far that offer extends.."

"Why were you in Boston, Johanna? I was not under the assumption that it was such a hard question to answer. It is quite reasonable, isn't it?"

"I went to Boston to kill my mother." Johanna answers, turning away from the rack of clothes. She holds up two dresses in her hand. "The red dress or the white dress?"

Elijah watches her silently for a moment, studying her expression, her movements. He takes a step in her direction, his head slightly tilted to the side, eyes fixated on her. Johanna looks down at the dresses before placing the white dress back on the rack, and she turns her back to him again, searching through the rows of dresses once more. She can feel Elijah's burning against the back of her skin, but she chooses to ignore it, focusing on the items in front of her instead.

"If you want to say something, just say it, Elijah. You've never been one to hold back what you're thinking before, and neither have I. We didn't do that with each other, did we? Let's not start now."

"When I was informed of the situation in Boston regarding the death of your mother, I had hoped that it was not you that had been involved."

"No one is going to come after me for it, Elijah. I'm not going to be arrested, or charged. I got off." Johanna says, picking up a few more dresses. "And no one is going to miss that bitter, old woman."

"You are mistaken, Johanna, I did not wish you weren't involved because I was concerned over the authorities coming after you. I am also not concerned with any who would miss, as you put it, a bitter, old woman. I was concerned for you, Johanna. You say that no one will come after you for this, and perhaps you are right, but concerning yourself..Your conscience will come after this for you."

"My conscience will not be coming after me for anything, Elijah." she says, a subtle fierceness to her words.

"Perhaps not today or any day soon, but the day will come when you will have your humanity back. You will feel something again, you will want to feel something, and on that day your mother's death will come for you, as will the other things that you have done that haunt you."

Johanna turns around suddenly, taking a step towards Elijah. "You're right, Elijah. I am haunted, but I don't feel it anymore, I don't see my ghosts anymore. I don't have to fight it, because I've already won. I won the fight because I don't feel anymore. So they can keep haunting me now, and I won't notice, I won't feel it, because the part of me that used to be scared, the parts of me that used to feel, they're all gone. Nothing can haunt me now."

Elijah gives a slight shake of his head, apparently unconvinced by her words. "How wrong you are to believe that it will remain this way. I have witnessed this countless times. Vampires that have shut down their humanity, believing they will never feel again. It fades, Johanna. It fades away, and regardless of whether you fight it or not, you will feel something again. That is the inevitable and undeniable truth here. A truth that you will have to face one day."

"Today is not that day." Johanna answers, turning in the direction of the shoes. "Tomorrow isn't looking so great right now either, Elijah. But I'll get back to you on that. Maybe I'll give you a call some time after the weekend..."

After glancing briefly at the elegant shoes presented on stands, and tables, Johanna carries a pile of outfits to one of the dressing rooms: they are tall, dark change rooms with lavish purple and silver curtains. She sets the items down and steps inside, closing the curtain behind her. Johanna listens to the distant chatter and music in the boutique as she strips out of the stranger's dress, dropping it to the floor and removing her heels, leaving herself only in black underwear. She turns towards her reflection, reaching first for her long, thick curls, fingers playing with the lighter pieces of them.

She takes another step closer, examining herself in the mirror for a moment, before she turns away and reaches for one of the dresses – her fingers find a strapless, tiered light green and gold dress and she pulls it on, slipping into a pair of tall, black stilettos once the dress is on. After examining her now dressed body in the mirror, Johanna pulls back the curtain and steps outside, showing it to Elijah, who is standing close by, waiting for her.

"I do not know what it is that you are expecting from me, Johanna. You confessed to me that you murdered your mother, and then a moment later you are hoping that I will assist you in purchasing garments."

"If I am to stay in New Orleans, I'll need clothes. I can't keep wearing stranger's outfits. It's uncomfortable, most of the time they won't fit me...And that will be a lot of bodies to bury. The choice is yours."

"No, Johanna, the choice is actually yours. This is not you. You are aware of that, I am sure." Elijah responds, taking a step in her direction. "You are also aware that you do not have to be this way. Not having humanity does not necessarily turn one into a killer. You do not have to kill. You do not have to be cold. You can deal with this in other ways."

Johanna faces Elijah again, tilting her head slightly to the side, before taking a step closer. Her expression is colder, harder.

"I don't have to deal with it this way?"

"No, you do not."

"You didn't have to lie to me, about Team Mystic Falls using me to save their little sweetheart's baby brother. Did you?" she asks, head tilted on an angle.

Elijah takes a small step towards her, and there's almost a fragment of relief on his face. "Johanna-"

"You didn't have to allow your brother use me as a pawn in his game. Did you?" Johanna asks, stepping closer. "I'll take that as a no. I'll also take your silence as your ability to accept that what I am doing has nothing to do with you, or anyone else in _that_ town."

"If you are coping so well, why haven't you said their names?" Elijah questions. "You have mentioned them, but only vaguely. Why can't you say his name?"

"I don't like this dress." Johanna answers, returning to the dressing room. She leaves the curtain open as she tears off the green dress, throwing it to the floor. "It reminds me of one I bought with Damon. I hate that dress now."

"He has been searching for you, Johanna. You are aware of this, are you not? They have all been searching."

"Then let them. Let them search, let them find nothing."

"You really do not wish to see them again?"

Johanna ignores Elijah's question as she retrieves her next dress; A silky red, plunging dress, with a low back, paired with lace black heels. She runs her fingers through her hair, fixing it up before she steps out of the dressing room again.

"This is much better than the white dress. Isn't it?" she asks, head slightly tilted to the side again.

Elijah's eyes skim over Johanna briefly, before he meets her gaze. "I suppose."

"How reassuring."

"I did not realize you were in need of reassurance. If I had-"

"I'm not in need of it." Johanna answers, turning towards another mirror. "I like this dress. I think I'll keep it. Perhaps I'll wear it to dinner tonight."

"Dinner?" Elijah asks, almost frowning.

"With your brother, of course. He promised to show me New Orleans."

"You have seen New Orleans before, Johanna. Why are you here?"

"Those were very different circumstances then. Weren't they?"

"Indeed they were." Elijah says flatly, watching her closely. "You will have to see them one day, Johanna. It may not be soon, but it will come. Would you not rather set the meeting on your own terms, and be prepared, instead of waiting and risking the chance of it happening at any moment?"

"I don't believe in chance." she says simply, ignoring his other words.

"You used to. You believed in chance, Johanna. You believed in giving people a chance, and you believed that there were chances in life." Elijah responds. "You may have changed, but somewhere inside of you there is a part of you that believes in chances."

"I don't." Johanna says, then proceeds to enter the dressing room.

"Human lives are fleeting to vampires. Would you risk their lives running out before this was sorted"

"First you try to make me feel something by getting me to say his name. I said his name. _Damon_. I don't miss him, I don't think about him, and I don't feel bad that he is searching for me. When this fails, you attempt to get me thinking about the possibility of running into Team Mystic Falls by chance, as though it would shake me, or upset me. You're wrong, Elijah." she says, stepping out of her dress. "And then when all of the above fails, you try to guilt me because human lives are fleeting. Like you don't think I know this. I was human before, I was aware of how fleeting our lives are."

"I did not imply that you weren't aware of this-"

"Yes you did, Elijah." she steps out of the dressing room, in another red dress. This dress is short, and tight, with off the shoulder straps, and red heels to match. "You think because I _was_ human that I couldn't understand how fast our lives go, just as you believed that you could use this to manipulate me, or convince me to contact Jeremy or Matt. I have witnessed the beginning and end of many lives. I have seen how cruel time can be, and how quickly things can end. I have seen life enter this world, and I have seen it be snatched away. I know how fleeting life is, but this doesn't guilt me. Now, are we done talking about this? Because if we aren't, I'd prefer you'd leave. I don't want to hear these repetitive speeches, Elijah."

"I will stop for now."

"For now." she repeats, returning to the change room, and trying on one last dress.

A strapless, green silk dress, with black and gold platform ankle boots to go with the outfit. Johanna tries it on briefly, deciding to keep it. She returns to the store briefly, picking out one last outfit before taking it back to the dressing room. Johanna eyes off the last dress before putting it on: The top half of the tight dress is light brown, while the bottom half is black, and has four silver decorative buttons on each side of her waist. She slides it on, pulling on a pair of light heels with it.

When Johanna steps out of the dressing room Elijah is waiting for her, as he was before, and he continues to wear the same complex, unreadable expression on his face, and Johanna makes no effort to attempt to read it, instead she informs him that she's organizing the transport of these items, and some other items, and that she'll wait him outside. Only once Elijah has left the store does Johanna approach the main desk, the dresses in her hand. She sets them down on the counter and waits as the woman with the light eyes packs them away into boxes, and tells her that they'll be delivered to their destined location as soon as possible.

Before she leaves, Johanna stretches her hand over the counter subtly and takes the folded piece of paper left there by the woman with light eyes. She hides it discreetly, and leaves the boutique, finding Elijah waiting outside for her with his back to the store, his eyes focused on the people moving through the streets, going on with their own lives.

"You think that I'm a threat to these people, don't you?"

Elijah looks up at her slowly. "I'm more concerned about you being a threat to yourself."

"I have no desire to die anytime soon, Elijah. I'm not a threat to myself."

"I am still concerned, and with good reason to be. Just because you do not have the desire for something does not mean that it will not happen."

"You're concerned that I'm going to turn vampires into Rippers so I'll make you a promise: Any vampires I bite I'll put down so they won't turn into Rippers. I won't infect anyone, and I won't let the virus spread."

Elijah sighs quietly, shaking his head almost. He takes a step towards her, almost considering moving closer, but deciding against it at the last-minute, and therefore allowing some distance to remain between them. "You intend to kill more vampires?"

"What I intend to do is my concern, not yours."

"I would disagree-"

"And I would stop you from doing that, and then remind you that your brother encouraged you to entertain me. Not bore me." Johanna says, adding a forced smile at the end.

"You have no humanity, but you're bored-"

"I lied, I'm not bored. Apparently I'm getting good at that, at lying. I've been around liars enough, I should be good at it by now. Shouldn't I?"

"You were always a good liar, Johanna. A very convincing actress. Now, and before. And I think that we can both acknowledge and accept that you turned yourself into that liar, and that you are the one responsible for it, no one else."

"Maybe I was before, but I'm not lying anymore, and there's nothing false about me now. This is me, Elijah. It may not be the person that you knew, but you didn't really know me. I didn't really know who I was until _this_. There's nothing untrue, or false, about me anymore."

When she meets Johanna's eyes she can tell that he's holding something back, keeping something inside, and she knows without confirmation what it is – he doesn't believe her. Elijah doesn't believe that there isn't anything false about her now, anything untrue. He doesn't believe her words, but she knows that he can see it in her, the same way she can seek something in him without confirmation – she doesn't care what he, or anyone else, believes and he knows this too.

"Damon is being hunted, I believed you would wish to know that. It is by Natasha Rosenberg, the daughter of-"

"I know who she is."

"Natasha and Max made a deal." Elijah says, watching her closely in an attempt to determine her reaction to this news. "He lured Damon to Alaric's apartment where a witch had placed a spell on it, not allowing any supernatural being to leave the apartment once entering it. After learning of his situation I was able to free him, but I do not doubt that Natasha will come after him again, and you. At the current moment, she is under watch at a location none know about but I. She will remain this way until she has served her purpose."

"And what is her purpose?"

"You cannot stay a Ripper-"

"Why not?" Johanna cuts across him. "I like it."

"You are becoming a better liar, indeed. But your last statement lacks conviction, as do your attempts at pretending you do not care about Damon's situation. You care about his situation, just as you care about your own. You do not wish for Damon to remain a Ripper, just as you do not want to remain one yourself?"

"I'm going to take a walk, Elijah, I'd prefer if you didn't join me. But I will see you tonight for dinner. Maybe we can discuss my lack of conviction then?"

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><p><strong>AN: I'm sorry this update took so long, I've been busy. I'll try to update more regularly from now. Enjoy this chapter.**

**Adela - chapter 1: **Thanks, Adela! Happy you liked it. Damon and Jo will meet up soon, and maybe it won't be under the circumstances that you're thinking.

**Guest - chapter 1: **Hi there. Yes, Johanna's back permanently! I'm happy you're excited to have her back. Damon and Johanna will see each other soon, you won't have to wait too much longer for that reunion. As for Ric, yes I confirmed that he's 100% back but believe what you want to. :) Enjoy the new chapter.

x


	3. Out Of Air

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and claim nothing. Vampires Diaries is copyright to its respective owners. Nothing is being claimed and no money is being made.**

**For those reading this story for the first time - You will be confused. This is part 3 in the "Crow and Blackbird Series", and as such you will likely have no idea what is occurring. If you want to read this I'd recommend going back to read "The Story of a Crow and a Blackbird", and then "The Brave Ones", and then this story so that it will all make sense.**

***The rest of the A/N is at the end of this chapter..Enjoy.**

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><p>"You feel any better now that you've had some fresh air?"<p>

Jeremy looks up at the sound of Sam's voice coming from behind him, and he stands up from the ledge he'd been sitting on, turning to face him more directly. His eyes skim over Sam, and although this hasn't been confirmed, he can tell that Sam doesn't know about Alaric yet, that no one has told him and he didn't see Alaric return. Sam is too calm, too normal, and if he knew about Alaric being back from the dead then he wouldn't be this way.

"What do you mean?" Jeremy finally responds, turning to face him directly.

"I saw you briefly, before. You looked pale. Stressed." Sam answers, studying him silently.

"Yeah, no I'm fine. I'm fine."

"Yeah, no I don't think you are." he replies swiftly, stepping closer.

"It doesn't – Look, it's just really complicated." Jeremy answers, unable to say more right now. He sighs and runs his hands over his face, breathing out heavily before finally dropping his hands away.

"Things usually are. And in this town? Fuck. There are even more complications, if possible."

"I thought you were sleeping?" Jeremy finally glances up again, sounding annoyed.

"I tried to, but I couldn't. So I took my meds, and came downstairs. That's when I saw you looking pale, and all stressed out. I wanted to give you some time alone before I found you, before we talked. So start talking, Jeremy. Tell me what's going on with you."

"Why do you care?" Jeremy snaps back, voice growing louder. "Just go – Go away, Sam."

"What's going on? I thought we were okay-"

"We are. Now can you just – Can you just step back for a minute? Just step away."

"Okay." Sam agrees, hands raised in the air slightly as he takes a step back. "I stepped away. I'm not close. I'm not close, okay, Jeremy? It's okay."

Jeremy shakes his head, his breathing becoming heavier by the second. He can't get rid of the feeling that everything is closing in on him, and crushing him. "No, it's not. It's not okay. Nothing is okay. Nothing is okay, Sam. Nothing is ever going to be okay."

"No, maybe not but it will be. One day-"

"Save your bullshit, Sam. I'm tired of hearing the same thing. It won't get better, and even if it does, that doesn't mean that I'll forget how I feel right now. How everyone else feels. Just because things might get better doesn't mean that I'll forget this pain."

"You won't forget it. You won't. That's a lie, you're right. There's no forgetting. There's only trying to move on."

"You don't really believe that." he answers immediately, breathing still heavy, uncontrollable. "I saw how you were, after Martin relapsed. I've seen how you are, how you react to things, and you don't believe that there's moving on. You don't believe that it gets better than this, but you don't care, because you are never going to be better than this."

"I don't get better than this." Sam echoes these words flatly, taking a step back.

"No, Sam..I didn't mean it like that." Jeremy sighs, rubbing the side of his head as though he has a bad headache. "I don't mean it like that. Okay? You know I didn't."

"Let's not focus on me. You're the one who just freaked out-"

"Freaked out?" his voice grows higher. " That's pretty insensitive-"

"I'm being insensitive? You just said I don't get better than this. Than these kinds of situations. Angst. Pain. Do you not realize how offensive that is?" Sam asks, then runs his hands through his hair. "Honestly, I don't care, Jeremy. Maybe saying you freaked out was offensive, and I'm sorry if it was, but something just happened here. You just..Something's going on with you, I can see it but you're just pushing me away. I can't help if you don't let me."

"It's really complicated, Sam. Like..Really, _really_ complicated."

"Well, the rest of my life up until this point has been an uncomplicated breeze. I haven't deal with anything remotely difficult, painful, or supernatural. So count me out of the conversation." Sam says, then sighs, folding his arms over his chest. "Come on, Jeremy. Just say it. It can't be that bad. Can it?"

"It's not exactly bad, it's just..Really hard to believe. And shocking. It's just a shock."

"I have vaguely dealt with shocks before in my life. I might be able to offer some guidance to you, but I don't know, I'm pretty useless."

"Okay, I get it. I get it. I'm sorry for what I said. You have helped. You can." Jeremy says, glancing back inside briefly before looking back to Sam. "It's about Alaric."

"What about him?" Sam asks, watching as Jeremy walks closer to him. "Did you see his ghost again? Is that why you're all shaky?"

"I saw him, but not as a ghost."

"I don't understand. Did you see him in a dream?"

He shakes his head simply, speaking with a quieter voice now that his breathing seems to have steadied for the moment, and the world around him doesn't feel like it's crushing him right now.

"No, it wasn't in a dream."

"Then how did you see him, Jeremy?"

"He's inside. Sam, he's here. Alaric showed up at the door, and he's inside right now with Damon and Stefan. They're taking care of him. He fed off me – " Jeremy says, pulling back the sleeve of his sweater to reveal dried blood. "He's here."

Sam catches Jeremy's wrist, inspecting it briefly, almost suspiciously, before dropping it away. He glances back up at Jeremy, and there's a clear look of doubt in his eyes, but the concern is the brightest thing there.

"You don't believe me. Are you – Are you seriously kidding me right now? You think that I would make something like this up? You think that I did _this_ to myself?"

"I don't know, Jeremy. I don't know that you're in the best head-space right now. I don't know why you would-"

"Come with me, then." Jeremy says suddenly, stepping away. "Follow me and I'll show you."

Sam shakes his head slowly, reaching out to pat Jeremy's shoulder. "We don't have to do this, Jeremy. We don't have to. It's okay, I believe you."

Jeremy knocks his hand away harshly, angered."No you don't. Now – Now you're just being like them."

"Like who?"

"Like everyone else. Underestimating me, and what I say. Believing that I don't know anything, or that I'm just lying. I'm stronger than you think. Than any of you think."

"Hey, hey. Jeremy." Sam reaches out, putting a hand on Jeremy's shoulder to steady him. He meets his gaze and holds it, words a little softer when he speaks next. "I'm not like them. You said that. Remember? You said to me that you and I, we were alike. We got left alone. We were put down, underestimated, discarded like we didn't matter. We're similar. I'm not treating you like they do because I know what it's like, and I know that you don't deserve that. I'm just worried about you, that's all. I was just worried, but I believe you. I'm on your side."

"You're on my side?" Jeremy asks a minute later, not appearing less calm, just speaking quietly.

"Of course I am. Now tell me, tell me what room Alaric is in." Sam replies slowly, almost struggling with the words. "We'll go in together."

"I can't go in yet. I'm sorry, I can't see him yet. But you need to, you should see him.."

"Why can't you see him?"

He shakes his head quickly. "I just can't. Not yet."

"That's fine then, Jeremy. You do what you have to." Sam says, patting him lightly on the shoulder.

Jeremy turns back towards the direction of the house and leads the way inside, through rooms and hallway that he pays no attention to. After leading Sam to the room that Alaric is side, he waits outside, watching as Sam reluctantly opens the door and steps inside. He hears the sound of Damon addressing Sam's sudden appearance and he turns away, not entirely sure why he walks upstairs to Katherine's room.

The hallway is silent as Jeremy walks down towards Katherine's room, his mind screaming with thoughts that he can't ignore, and the silence making it all worse. When he reaches the door Jeremy turns the handle and steps inside, discovering no lights on inside the room. He frowns and turns towards the wall, searching for the light-switch.

"Why are all the lights out?" Jeremy asks, finding the switch and turning a light on.

His entire body turns rigid after he turns the light on and faces Katherine's bed – she's still lying limp in the middle of the bed, but there's blood covering her body. The lamp that had been on the bedside has been knocked to the ground, and there's glass and blood all over the floor. Something switches off inside of Jeremy and for a moment he can't move, he can't breathe, and then suddenly he's kneeling on the bed, searching for a pulse on Katherine.

"Katherine! Oh, no, Katherine, come on." he calls out, not sure why, as his shaking fingers search for a pulse that he doesn't find.

Jeremy presses his head to her chest to hear her heart-beat, but he hears nothing, only more silence. When he pulls his head away he feels blood on his face, and wipes at it angrily, stumbling back to find that there is a large wound on her side.

"Stefan! Damon!" Jeremy shouts out, glancing towards the door in the hopes of finding someone there, but he finds no one.

It's only a matter of time before Damon or Stefan hear him, so Jeremy continues shouting, while turning back to face Katherine's lifeless body. He places his hands together and begins pressing them to her chest, giving her CPR to somehow save her, even though deep down he knows that it's futile – she's been dead for too long. The wound has bled out severely, she's not breathing and she doesn't have a heart-beat. Katherine Pierce is dead, he knows this, but Jeremy doesn't know why he can't stop trying to save her.

Guilt perhaps. He didn't treat her as kindly as he should have treated someone who was dying, someone who has lost so much – and despite the resentment that he felt towards her, and the rage, he should have done better because she was dying. And now she's dead.

"Jeremy?!" Damon calls out first. "Jeremy, what's wrong?"

"Jeremy?" Stefan's voice follows, filled with concern.

When Stefan and Damon enter the room, Jeremy is still kneeling on the bed above Katherine's lifeless body. Instead of making inappropriate remarks about this, they both move swiftly towards the bed, to concerned to make this situation into some sort of joke when it's clearly not. Jeremy moves back, away from Katherine, down towards the end of the bed.

There's blood all over his skin, and his hands shake slightly as he gestures towards Katherine's body. Stefan and Damon make no move to step towards her, both keenly aware of the fact that she is not breathing, and that her heart is not beating anymore.

"Katherine, she's – She's dead. She's – I was-"

"It's okay." Stefan says slowly, speaking first. His words are surprisingly, and unusually, shaky. "Jeremy, it's okay. Just breathe. It's okay."

"Who did this? Someone killed her. She wouldn't do it to herself. Not like that. And the lamp-" Jeremy stumbles towards the edge of the bed, moving to stand up.

Stefan catches his elbow, and keeps Jeremy steadied upright. He follows Jeremy's gaze towards the shattered lamp on the ground, and the few signs that indicate a struggle. They both look to Damon next, whose eyes are still fixated on the lifeless body on the bed.

"Calm down, Jeremy. Just calm down." Stefan says quietly, reaching out to pat Jeremy's back lightly.

"Someone killed her." Jeremy says, then looks up at the brothers.

Damon's face is flat as he meets Jeremy's gaze, and he appears to understand what Jeremy is implying without their being actual words. He signs and shakes his head, stepping away from the bed, away from them.

"You're kidding, right, Jer? You better be kidding." Damon says, his words lack effort, energy.

"Stefan just got home. He's just back here. You've been here this whole time. Did you do this? Did you kill her, Damon? Did you do this?"

"Damon didn't kill her. He's been – He came back to the house with me." Stefan says, standing between the two of them. "He didn't do this, he was trapped, and now he's here. There was no way that he could kill her."

"I can't believe you seriously just asked me that."

"You hated her-" Jeremy begins, only to fall silent suddenly.

"So did you!" Damon exclaims. "Why do you care all of a sudden?"

"I didn't hate her like you did."

"Jeremy." Stefan sighs, reaching out to stop him from walking closer to Damon, who is clearly agitated by the situation, but is remaining worryingly still.

"Are you kidding me?" Damon asks. "Why would I let Katherine stay in my house, why would I keep her alive, just to kill her? That makes no sense."

"No, it doesn't. It doesn't make any sense, and it isn't fair."

Damon shakes his head, clearly agitated. "Don't talk to me about fair when you're talking about Katherine Pierce-"

"You're right, I hated her, but she didn't deserve to die like this. Alone, and bleeding to a slow death!" Jeremy snaps back, a surprising anger in his voice. "Look at her. She tried to fight. Whoever it was, they were stronger. And they let her bleed to death slowly like a coward."

Stefan turns to Damon, voice serious, low. "Jeremy, stop. You know that Damon didn't do this, he didn't do it."

"No, the kid's right. Clearly, when I was trapped in Alaric's apartment waiting to be torn apart and operated on by that Rosenberg psycho, I somehow got out, got into the Boarding House, stabbed Katherine, left her to die, returned to the apartment and then waited for Elijah to come save me. That makes total sense."

"Where were you before? Before the apartment?" Jeremy asks, taking a step away from both of them.

"Jeremy?" Martin's disheveled voice comes from the hallway.

All three in the room turn towards the door as Martin enters; looking tired, and slightly disorientated, like he's only just woken up. His long, shaggy hair hangs messily out, and he's wearing a baggy cardigan and brown pants, with odd socks. He frowns and looks over the room, quickly assessing the situation.

"I thought that I heard...Voices." Martin comments, a permanent frown etched on to his features. He stops when he sees Katherine's body, freezing.

Behind him, another shadow appears in the doorway and then Sam appears, stepping into the room with a concerned look on his features, like he'd heard the noises in the distance, or had to eventually decided to follow Damon after he'd disappeared from the room. He follows Martin's gaze towards the bed and stops walking, frowning.

"You killed her?" Sam looks up, not entirely confident in who he is addressing this question to.

"Apparently." Damon says flatly, words sounding as disconnected as he appears to be in this situation.

"She's dead." Martin frowns, not moving from where he stands several feet away from all of them. "Damon, did you-"

"No. No, I didn't kill her. I might be a vampire, but I cannot physically be in two places at once!" Damon responds, snapping slightly. "I was trapped in an apartment by a witch, while a Rosenberg freak was coming to get me and operate on me. Stefan came into the apartment, stupidly, and we were trapped in there together. We arrived at the Boarding House together. I didn't have the chance to do this, and even if I had the chance, even if I had the time, I wouldn't have done it. As hard as it apparently is for all of you to believe, I didn't want Katherine dead. She was a pain in my ass. I hated her. I still do. Just because she's dead doesn't mean I'm going to pretend like I cared, or like I didn't hate her any less than I did, but I wouldn't, and I didn't, go out of my way to kill her."

"Damon's right. We were together, ever since the apartment. And the moments that we weren't here, that wasn't enough time for him to – And he wouldn't do this. I believe him."

"See? Doesn't Stefan I-ditch-the-people-who-mean-the-most-to-me-when-they-need-me-the-most make you believe me? His word means a lot right now, so you should go off that."

"You're not making this easier for yourself, Damon. You never do." Stefan sighs, shaking his head. "It doesn't have to be like this. It doesn't have to be this way."

"I'm sorry, _I'm_ not making it easier for myself?!" Damon responds instantly. "I didn't do this. Your confidence in me is reassuring, all of you. But I did not kill Katherine Pierce, meaning that I do not have to make this easier for myself. I don't have to do anything, I don't have to feel guilty, and I don't have to stand here and listen to this because I didn't kill her."

"If you didn't do it, Damon, then who did?"

Damon makes a point of looking at Sam, whose expression remains flat and unimpressed.

"You're kidding." Sam says flatly.

"Damon, he had no reason to do that. None at all. He didn't know Katherine, he'd never spoken with her." Stefan steps closer, towards his brother. "We'll figure it out. We can't just go blaming everyone in the house, because no one had any reason-"

"Really? No one had any reason to kill Katherine? I can think of a few off the top of my head."

"I was going to say, they had no reason to kill her when she was already dying. Whoever did this, they did it for a reason. Why kill a dying woman?"

"To speed up the process? Stop her suffering? Someone did this for a reason, Damon, and I don't think it was anyone living here." Stefan answers.

"What are you saying, Stefan? Someone broke in, killed Katherine and left?" Damon replies, disbelief clear in his voice as he steps back away from them, away from the bed. "You're forgetting, we have the barrier on the door. Nothing supernatural can get inside while Jeremy's still alive."

"Maybe they were human, Damon. Did you think about that?"

"Honestly, I don't care anymore. My attention span on this situation is done. We have more important things to deal with right now."

"He needs to know."

"Who needs to know?"

"Sam knows." Jeremy informs both of them, speaking quietly.

"Knows what?" Martin asks, frowning slightly. "What does he know?"

Stefan speaks when no one else does. "We should show him."

It doesn't take very long for the group to move downstairs, and when they reach the room that Alaric is inside, Jeremy looks to Martin who is still completely unaware of what is about to unfold. He then looks to Sam, who is standing right by Martin's side, there for support in case he should need it. Sam glances over his shoulder at Jeremy before he opens the door, stepping aside to allow Martin to step through.

Damon and Stefan fall into place beside Jeremy, and the three watch on silently, briefly, as Martin's eyes skim the room and discover his son resting on the large bed, the curtains still drawn shut to prevent any light from slipping through.

Martin takes a step inside then stops, unable to move for a minute. Sam reaches out to him, even says something to him, but he doesn't answer, he doesn't respond, He just continues to stare at the bed. He stays this way until Alaric opens his eyes, discovering the new visitors in his room. He sits up immediately, or tries to anyway, and that's when Damon moves forward instinctively, and helps Alaric to sit upright properly.

After he has helped Alaric sit up, Damon steps to the side, giving Martin and Alaric the privacy and time to speak – if they want to. Jeremy watches on from the doorway with a silent Stefan as Martin walks to the bed.

"I don't – I don't understand. How is this possible?" Martin stammers over the words, his usually strong voice shaky.

"It's complicated." Alaric answers warily, watching his father with a close intensity.

"Alaric..."

"Not here. Not now." he replies firmly, still appearing tired, but he seems sure of this.

Martin nods and moves until he's standing directly beside Alaric, in awe of the sudden appearance of his son. A small smile fixes on Martin's lips, and he ends up reaching out to Alaric – and for a fleeting moment Jeremy panics, and he isn't sure why. He panics that Alaric will reject Martin, and this will send him spiraling further down, but it doesn't happen like that. Alaric moves into the embrace, hugging his father tightly, closely.

It pushes Jeremy out of the room, and he can't explain why, or what about it exactly, but it has something to do with the painful reminders of all that they've lost, and all the hugs he'll never have with his own father. Jeremy isn't bitter, or angry, he's just struggling. He's struggling with all of it and he finds himself in need of another break, so he follows the path down to the front door and opens it just in time to see Matt's truck pulling into the driveway.

When the truck pulls up to a stop Jeremy approaches it, watching as Matt jumps down out of the seat, offering him a half-smile. He looks the same but he seems different, but Jeremy doesn't dwell on it for too long, and ends up hugging Matt briefly.

"You're back." Jeremy says when they pull apart.

Matt nods, glancing toward the house then back to Jeremy. "This is more important than that. Whatever that was. A break. Time to recover..This is more important."

"Where's Rebekah?"

"We were together for a while." he responds quietly. "We had some..Good times. But she ditched me."

"What? She ditched you?"

"Well, kinda." Matt sighs, moving to sit on the stairs. "She cut me out, you know? She was fine for a while, and then she started saying things that she used to say. That she wasn't good enough for me, that I deserved better than her. I don't know, man. I thought we were past that, and then she just went back to how she was. She made sure I got back okay, but she cut me out again. I couldn't fight it, and I didn't really have the energy to."

"Where is she now?"

"I don't know. She's just gone."

Jeremy nods slowly. "She'll come back."

"I can't focus just on Rebekah right now. I came back because I wanted to be here, because I wanted to help you and everyone else."

Jeremy stretches out his legs after sitting down on the stairs beside Matt. He pulls his legs up and rests his elbows on his knees, eyes focused on the distance, the bright world around them that seems to carry on just fine without any realization of what is going on in this small town.

"We almost found her, and then we lost her." Jeremy admits. "Stefan saw her, she found him in a town that he was in, but she compelled him to forget where it was. So we have nothing."

"Did he pay for it all in cash?" Matt asks, then looks up at the tired teenager next to him. "He didn't pay at all, did he? So we have no idea where to look."

"Johanna only compelled Stefan to forget the town where they met. She didn't compel him to forget where he was before, so that could help us in finding out where he went from there. She didn't compel him to forget the things in the town – like smells, sounds, colors. You know what I mean? So there might be something there that he remembers. Something that helps us locate her."

"And if we can't find anything, we're back to having nothing?"

"I guess." Jeremy admits quietly. "I guess it is. We don't have much now. We haven't had anything, but we have to find something soon. We will."

"This is just.. This is not how I expected things to go. Things started going bad ever since the veil went down, and then I was dead, and I was on the Other Side watching things happen. I didn't expect it to be like this when I woke, after..." Matt glances away, wringing his hands together. "When I was on the Other Side I saw her. I saw Vik. We saw each other, and we were together, and it's so weird, man..But I was okay that I was with her. I was okay with dying, or being stuck on that side, because I'd be with her."

"You wanted to be dead?" Jeremy asks quietly, voice breaking slightly. He ducked his head down, to get a better look at his friend. "Matt, did you want to die?"

"No, Jeremy. I didn't want to die, and I don't want to be dead, but I just had this feeling.. I don't know what it was. Acceptance, maybe. You know, like, if this is it..If this is how I go out, with my sister by my side, then I have to accept that."

"We would've found a way to get you back, Matt. You know that we wouldn't have stopped. None of us."

Matt shakes his head, before running his fingers through his hair. "There's no way back from the Other Side, Jeremy. I know you would've tried, but there was no way back. I'd be dead if it weren't for the anklet. I'd be dead right now if it weren't for Johanna. That's what saved me. There's no way back."

"Actually, there might be."

"What?" Matt looks up, frowning slightly. "There's only one way, I guess. Bringing the veil down, but that's not permanent."

"There's something you need to know."

"About what?"

Jeremy exhales shakily, seeming hesitant. "Alaric's alive."

The frown on Matt's face deepens, and a look of complete disbelief crosses his face. He shakes his head, words spilling out of his mouth so fast they come out rushed, broken.

"No, that's – That's not possible. There's – No way back. There's no going back."

"There is. I don't know how, we don't know how. But he's here right now. He's here, inside. He's weak, because he was desiccating, and we don't know how long he's been gone for, but he's here now. He's alive, Matt."

Jeremy watches as the disbelief breaks out across Matt's face, and soon disappears, a look of relief filling his features. He smiles and shakes his head, unable to fight the happiness that he feels.

"This is – This is amazing. Why didn't you tell me, jerk?" Matt smiles, shoving Jeremy's shoulder.

"We just found out. Literally. He showed up today."

"Can we – Can I see him?"

"He's in with Martin right now, they're kinda reuniting. But I'm sure he'd be up for visitors after." Jeremy responds, folding his arms. "You're thinking about Vicki now, aren't you?"

"Yeah." Matt nods, smile still there. "I mean, of course I am. If Ric can come back, Vicki can come back. Can't she?"

"I don't know., Matt. I don't want to tell you not to be hopeful, but I don't-"

"Don't then. I'm gonna be hopeful, Jeremy. Do you not see how amazing this is? There's a way back. Ric came back. He got back here, that means Vicki can come back. Anna. Jenna."

"Matt, stop. Alright? Just stop. We don't know if they can come back." Jeremy snaps back quickly. "We don't know where they are. You saw Vicki. You didn't see Anna. And Jenna – Jenna's gone, Matt. She passed over. She's gone, she can't come back. And we don't know that anyone else can come back. I know you want to be hopeful, but don't get your hopes too high because this could be a one time thing. Just don't get too hopeful."

"I'm not getting too hopeful, Jeremy. I'm just being hopeful because this means something. It means that there is more to all of this than we think. There's a way back. That's what I'm hopeful about, and I know it's hard but you should try to see it that way too."

"I can't. I just can't see it-" Jeremy stops suddenly, feeling a sticky sensation on his face. He wipes his hand under his nose and pulls it away, discovering blood.

"You alright?" Matt asks casually. "You're bleeding-"

"It's fine. I used to get these. It's just..Stress, or something. I don't know." Jeremy stands up quickly, wiping the blood on the back of his head. "You should go inside and find Stefan or Damon. You need to talk to them. Stefan will probably fill you in, or Sam."

Matt stands slowly, frowning slightly. "That sounds serious."

"It's not, but you should go find out. I'd tell you but I wanted to go for a run, and they can tell you it all anyway."

He nods slowly, still wearing the same frown. "You want some company?"

"Not really." Jeremy answers, jogging lightly away from the house, towards the road. "I'll see you after, man. We'll catch up then."

* * *

><p>The bell above the wooden door rings as Johanna pushes it open, stepping across the boundary without invitation. She turns to the store and allows her eyes to skim over it closely, taking in all of the obvious and minor details. An aroma of lavender and sage drifts through the store, which is dimly lit up by the candles that hang from the walls. There are various herbs, plants, and small, colored and dull items in small jars and vases throughout the door. On the left there is a large, wooden shelf behind a counter that wraps around to the right, covering the back wall.<p>

The counter is wooden, and there are dozens of tiny boxes along it, all locked Johanna discovers when she walks towards it and tries to pry it open. Johanna takes a step back from the counter and looks over at the right side of the room; there's partition in the middle of the room, but Johanna peers past it and discovers a smaller room, with a wooden table, a red and purple rug on the floor, and wooden chairs on the door. The bell rings again and Johanna glances back at the door, finding a light haired boy step inside. He's carrying a brown paper bag, and stops when he sees Johanna, meeting her gaze slowly.

"I'm sorry, do you have a meeting here?" he asks, walking inside slowly.

Johanna eyes him off slowly. "I'm waiting. Who are you?"

"I'm delivering a package."

"For who?" she asks. "Madam Louhi?"

The boy holds her gaze, light eyes shimmering as he seems to hold the package a little tighter behind his chest. He takes a step back, away from Johanna, and back towards the door.

"How did you know?"

"Intuition."

"Is it good?" the boy asks, watching her closely. "Your intuition?"

"I used to believe it was, but I'm not so sure anymore." Johanna answers, making a point of taking a step closer. "It has its moments. Like now. I know who you are, and what you can do."

"I don't understand what you're saying."

She half-smiles. "Oh, I think you do."

"I'm sorry, I don't." he stammers. "I really have no idea what you're saying."

"Scarlet told me how to find you. It's not an easy location to find, I'll give you that. Narrow, empty streets. You're in a good position, Madam Louhi." Johanna takes another step closer, head tilted slightly.

"I don't understand what you're saying. You have the wrong information."

"The only thing that I don't understand is why you don't have a barrier to keep the vampires out. I stepped in here freely."

The boy sets the package down on the counter and straightens out, turning back to face Johanna, and in seconds he slowly begins to shift – his entire body changing, until suddenly he's no longer a boy. A woman dressed in a long, faded brown skirt, and a green shirt stands before Johanna now. Her hair is a dull orange shade, and hangs out in curls around her. Her green eyes stand out against her tanned skin, and there's something almost immediately intoxicating about her.

"I have no problem with vampires stepping inside my store." Louhi answers, and walks behind the counter, package back in her hands. Her long, manicured nails run across the counter until she finds the drawer she wishes to place the package in. "The vampires are the ones who are faced with the trouble of leaving. They find themselves unable to."

"How did you do that?" Johanna asks, eyes fixated on the woman. "How did you change?"

"You spoke with such confidence, such assertiveness, that you knew me and what I was capable of." she locks the package away, then looks back up to Johanna. "But it is clear that you do not. What is it you seek here, Johanna?"

"I'm here for two things."

Louhi sets her hands down on the counter, her rings, and various pieces of silver and gold jewelry shining as she does this. "Scarlet was the one who informed you of my location."

Johanna half-smiles again. "You say that like she had a choice."

"You threatened her."

"Not exactly, no. We talked, she eventually arranged a time and a place."

"You should not have come here." Louhi says firmly. "I have no interest in assisting vampires anymore."

"Is that why you work for one?" Johanna asks, noting the slight falter in her expression. "You thought I wouldn't find out that you're working for Isasiah."

"You aren't welcome here, Johanna. You should leave now."

"I came here for a reason. I'm not leaving until I get what I want."

Louhi smiles now; it's a dangerous, cold smile that curves her lips upright. "Do you really want to test me, Johanna?"

"I have heard stories of you. Of your strength. Your magic." Johanna steps towards the counter, setting her hands down, fingers running over the wooden curves and edges of it. "Your power. I want you to help me, and once you hear my offer you'll want to help me."

"I doubt that."

"Don't you want to hear the offer before turning it down?"

"You have heard the stories about me?" Katrina asks, holding her gaze. "I have heard the stories of you, Johanna. Hunter of the Five. Daughter of Derek Saltzman."

"You have heard only lies, Louhi. That is not my father's name."

Katrina tilts her head to the side as she steps away from the corner, her heeled boots hitting the wooden floor as she walks around to Johanna, her light eyes now a different shade, almost green. She steps closer to Johanna, examining her closely.

"Your father and I knew each other briefly, when he was alive."

"I don't want to hear this. More lies."

"You came seeking from something from me, knowing I would not accept your offer. You were correct in assuming that I am involved with Isaiah, but your mistake was the assumption I worked _for _him." Katrina answers, stepping away. "Do you know who he is? Have you heard his stories? Isaiah is the successor of Marcel."

"I didn't come here for this, Madam Louhi."

"Your father was strong at times, but he had weaknesses. You were his weakness. You resemble him, his weaknesses and his strengths." Louhi says a moment later. "You cannot be compelled by vampires since you have turned, can you?"

Johanna eyes Madam Louhi off suspiciously, taking a step towards her. "How do you know that?"

"Derek had similar abilities. Not identical, but similar. He was not able to fight off all compulsions, especially not from older vampires. But from the younger vampires, he could fight that off, and he was able to compel them. You are stronger than he was. Do others know of your strengths? It became a burden to him, a burden which made others view him as a threat. Has the same happened to you?"

"Others don't know."

"Yes, they do." Louhi answers, reading her expression. "Not all know, only a select few, but you worry what will become of you if others are to learn of your powers."

Johanna's expression remains hard, unreadable. She doesn't falter, and she doesn't back down. "Many know that I killed Marcel, but I'm not afraid of them."

"You should be."

"You should be afraid of me." Johanna slams forward, pushing Louhi back against the shelf. She holds her there, hand tightening around her throat. "They should be afraid of me. Of what's coming. You can join me now, accept my offer, or you can face what will come alone."

Louhi leans her head back against the bookcase, her hand moving out to touch Johanna's skin. She holds it there for a moment before pulling her hand back, a different look now spreading across her features. Slowly, her features begin to shift and she changes – to look exactly as Johanna does now, so Johanna finds herself staring at her at herself.

"Is that how it works? With touch?" Johanna pulls her hand back, stepping away.

Louhi steps forward, mirroring Johanna's movements. "No. With touch I can read you. Read your memories, your feelings, your darkest secrets.

"_Liar."_

"No, I'm not lying, Johanna. You know that." she says, and she even sounds like Johanna.

"How can you read my feelings if I have none?"

"You are the liar now, Johanna. Lacking your humanity does not mean that you cease to feel anything. You continue to feel, and as much as you will try to fight it, you will feel again. You will feel it all. It will come back to you at a time that you are unprepared for, and you will not be able to fight it, you won't want to." Madam Louhi says, her appearance returning to its true form, her orange hair fading out the brown shades and replacing it. "You were wrong to come here. It is only because of your father that I will let you leave here alive, with your heart still beating in your chest. If you return again you will not leave this way. And I will not simply extend this offer to you, but to those you care about. Matt, Jeremy. Damon. You would be foolish to test this, Johanna. Leave now while I allow you to."

After staring at Madam Louhi for a moment, Johanna turns away, leaving the store so quickly that it passes in a blur. She steps out of the store and into the dull, narrow alley-way, her hands moving to her cheeks briefly before dropping away, back to her side.

"What business do you have with Madam Louhi?" Elijah's voice comes from behind her.

Johanna stops walking and turns around, discovering Elijah only a few feet from where she is standing. She eyes him off, a blank expression on her face as he nears her, curious.

"Ask her if you're interested."

"I am, and I believe I am already informed of the situation that occurred in there." Elijah answers simply, his eyes resting firmly on her.

Her blank expression fades, and she smiles. "You were listening. Why?"

"I am concerned."

"You should not have to listened to that." Johanna snaps back, the smile remaining on her lips, and contradicting the darker look in her eyes. "That is not your concern, Elijah. You had no right."

"Why are you interested in Isasiah?" Elijah asks, stepping towards her. "And do not be so foolish as to lie to me, Johanna. Not when I have overhead your entire conversation with Madam Louhi."

"I'm not interested in Isasiah."

"If he learns that you were responsible for the murder of Marcel, he will want you dead. Are you not aware of this? Did you not consider that the truth could come out, when you ventured here?"

"I have no intention of paying Isasiah a visit anytime soon."

"And Derek Saltzman?" he questions, voice flat, free of emotion. "Do you have any intention of chasing up that lie? And before you inform me it is not my concern, or that you are not my concern, you are wrong. Your intentions, and your well-being, are my concern."

"Why is it your concern, Elijah? Why do you care?"

"A complicated question with an equally complicated answer, I assure you."

"I don't want that. I don't want your assurance, and I don't want your concern. "

"It is because of your current situation that I am so concerned, Johanna."

"My situation shouldn't concern you, or anyone else, because it is _my_ situation. Not yours, not Damon's. Mine." Johanna answers firmly, taking a single step away. "If I wanted you or anyone else involved in my situation, I would say so."

"You are not acting or feeling as you normally should."

"This is it. This is it, Elijah." she laughs, curls falling back to the side. "This is why I couldn't be around you, around anyone. You do this. All of you. You restrict me. Even now, in this _situation_ that I'm in, you're trying to restrict me, control my behaviour, my responses."

"I am not attempting to do that because of enjoyment, I can assure you of that-"

"Well, you can stop it. Stop trying. Stop giving me your assurance, Elijah, because I don't want that from you. I don't want anything from you, or from anyone else. As hard as it may be for you to believe, I didn't come here for you, for anyone else, and I didn't come here for help. I don't want help, and I don't need it. I don't want to go back to how I was. Why can't you see that?"

"I see it clearly, Johanna. Your humanity is off, and you are fighting to keep it this way, because you can't even consider how utterly terrified you are of feeling again after what you've endured. It is understandable that you wouldn't want to feel again, but you cannot avoid your feelings, not for eternity. You will feel one day."

Johanna's eyes remain settled on Elijah as she walks closer towards him, not stopping until she's standing directly in front of him. She holds his empty, focused gaze as she speaks.

"I want you to know something. I want you to know that if you don't stop following me, if you don't stop trying to control me, I'll disappear. I'll go somewhere that no one will ever look, and you won't find me." Johanna says firmly, stepping away again. "And if you think that I'm lying, try it and see what happens."

"Johanna..." Elijah begins quietly.

She shakes her head. "I'm leaving now. New Orleans. I won't be back for a while, and I don't want you to follow me. I meant what I said, Elijah. Follow me, or have anyone else follow me, and I'll disappear completely."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Hi, all. I know you're all eager to have Johanna and Damon reunited, that's going to happen sooner than you think, I just need to lay the ground-work for a few things that will happen. There will be a time-jump soon, and then the Jamon reunion will happen. All good things in time, right? Well, in this chapter..Katherine Pierce was killed, and I can confirmed that it was not at the hands of either Salvatore brother. Alaric is 100% back and real, and he is going to struggle with this. Any questions or thoughts to share? Leave a review. I love feedback, it helps a lot and it's appreciated. It makes me feel like all of the work I put into this is worth it.

So, are you enjoying this story so far? I hope so..

Thank you Adela & Taylorocks17 for your reviews.

**Adela - chapter 2:** Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. Johanna and Damon will be reunited very soon, and it will be worth the wait.

**x**


	4. Down and Out

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and claim nothing. Vampires Diaries is copyright to its respective owners. Nothing is being claimed and no money is being made.**

**For those reading this story for the first time - You will be confused. This is part 3 in the "Crow and Blackbird Series", and as such you will likely have no idea what is occurring. If you want to read this I'd recommend going back to read "The Story of a Crow and a Blackbird", and then "The Brave Ones", and then this story so that it will all make sense.**

***The rest of the A/N is at the end of this chapter..Enjoy.**

* * *

><p>Stefan isn't surprised to discover Damon pouring himself a drink in the parlor when he enters, walking down the stairs slowly. He watches his brother from afar, knowing that Damon is fully aware of his approaching presence, but deciding to ignore it until he has to face it. His feet brush down the carpeted stairs and soon he's in the parlor, only a few feet away from his brother, who turns to him finally with a drink in his hand.<p>

"I'd ask if you wanted one," Damon starts, sipping on his drink. "But I'd be too tempted to fill it with vervain when you weren't looking, so if I were you I'd just get your own, or avoid it completely. You don't want to put your trust or faith in me right now, brother, because you will only find disappointment and pain there."

"Martin's not in with Alaric anymore, he went back to his room." Stefan informs him, ignoring his earlier words. "Alaric's sleeping now. He's pretty tired, and he shouldn't be for a vampire."

"What, you don't think I know that?" Damon frowns, filling himself another glass. "Of course I know that, Stefan. I don't need you reminding me of the potential, and very likely, complications of my best friend returning from the dead as an Original Vampire."

"Fine, I won't remind you of anything you already know. Can I get a copy of that list while we're here? Just to avoid any future situations like that."

"Look at you. Not even back a day, and you're back to your usual, snarky comments. Looks like Mr. Guilty isn't feeling so guilty and ashamed anymore."

"Stop it, Damon. Stop trying to act like you know what I'm feeling, and stop acting like you understand why I did what I did. You don't understand, because if you did then you wouldn't be like this."

"Like what? What wouldn't I be like, Stefan?"

"So hateful. So angry."

"Oh, I'm sorry that I'm angry and hateful when my brother ditched me and ran off to go on a mini-vacation. I'm sorry that I'm pissed that my brother ditched me _after_ I begged him not to. I'm sorry you abandoned me, and I'm mad about it."

"I'm not trying to tell you how to feel, Damon. Okay? I'm not trying to tell you how to feel, or how to react, and I'm not trying to understand what you're going through. Can't you do the same thing for me?"

"I don't want to do anything but snap your neck right now, Stefan, and the only reason that I haven't done this is because we all need you right now. Not just me. So don't go getting emotional that your brother needs you, because it's not just me. It's all of us."

"You know what, Damon.. I'm not doing this. How many times are we going to have this conversation? I made a mistake leaving you how I did, but I won't apologize for it because it's what I needed to do. And you know what? Maybe you facing what happened to Johanna, facing what you did..Maybe you needed to do that alone, without someone to rely on, without someone to help you realize your mistakes, and your wrongs. I'm sorry that I abandoned you, but if I had to change it I wouldn't because I needed to do that. I wasn't trying to be selfish, Damon, I was just trying to get myself through that. I couldn't do that for you then, but I can try now. All that I can do is try now, because I can't go back."

"No, you can't." Damon answers flatly, finishing off his drink and setting it down on the table before he starts to walk away. "We can't go back."

Instead of trying to convince Damon to stay, like he wants to, Stefan allows his brother to leave the room without a word. He watches as Damon's figure slowly disappears, and once it is gone he turns away and moves towards the couch, sitting down on it slowly and extending his legs.

Stefan's eyes shut as he reclines against the couch, one hand resting on the arm-rest. He leans his head back until it's settled against the pillows, and exhales heavily, his mind rushing through hundreds of different thoughts – but he pushes these thoughts as far away as he can and opens his eyes, sitting up straighter.

After reaching for his phone a moment later, Stefan searches Charlotte's number and stares at it for a moment, contemplating calling her. His fingers hit the call button on the screen and Stefan stands from the couch, thinking about her as he hears the phone ringing, hoping she'll answer, but she doesn't answer, it just goes right to voice mail.

"_It's Charlotte. You know what to do."_

And he almost leaves a voice-mail on her phone, he almost leaves a message, but Stefan finds that he can't form any words, he can't form the right ones anyway, and he ends up cancelling the call and putting his phone away. His thoughts remain of Charlotte even as he makes his way outside, down towards the forest, knowing just where he has to go.

The shovel that they'd used to bury April's body the first time she'd died is still out on the land, resting against one of the trees, and Stefan isn't sure why but the sight of it still resting there really bothers him, like somehow it was a sign of what was coming there way.

Inevitable deaths and loss.

Stefan reaches for the shovel and picks it up, fingers curling around the handle for a moment, knuckles soon turning white around it. He crushes the handle of it unintentionally and has to throw it away before breaking it entirely, an anger building up inside of him as he thinks of what they allowed to happen to Katherine. It wasn't their fault, it wasn't Katherine's fault either.

There was someone inside their house, someone that went in there with the intention of killing Katherine, who was dying, and alone, and neglected by Damon, and even after everything that she put him through, Stefan is unable to pretend like this doesn't upset him. It upsets him greatly, because even after everything that she did, she didn't deserve to die the way that she did.

"Stefan?"

Matt appears in his vision suddenly and Stefan glances up, surprised for a moment. He almost allows a small smile to cross over his face at the sight of Matt returning, because it is a surprise, even if he'd been expecting Matt to return he hadn't been expecting it to happen this soon.

"You're back?"

"Yeah, I just got here. You didn't see my truck out the front?" Matt nods, walking closer.

"No, I wasn't looking. I was.." Stefan glances back to the house briefly, trailing off. "No, I didn't see it. It's nice to have you back."

"It's nice to have you back here too. Honestly, I didn't know if you'd ever come back." Matt responds, pausing. "Johanna changed your mind?"

"Yes, and no."

"Jeremy told me about what happened, how she found you. You don't remember where it was?"

"No, I don't remember it." Stefan answers quietly, shaking his head. "I wish I did, but I don't. I don't know where it was, and I don't know where she is now."

"Do you remember other things?"

"I remember fragments. She only wanted me to remember fragments."

Matt exhales shakily, a guilty look spreading across his features, and for a moment he almost looks like he might be sick. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans and looks up again, brow still tightly knitted with a frown. "It's like her.."

"What?"

"It was like her." Matt said, clearing his throat. "Before. When she lost her memories, after Damon turned her. She only remembered fragments. She was giving you what we gave to her."

Stefan glances away, clenching his jaw tightly together. "Yeah, I guess she was. I didn't think of it like that."

"Can I ask you something about it, Stefan?"

"I can't guarantee you answers, but you can ask."

"What was she like? Do you remember?"

He shakes his head briefly. "No, not clearly."

"But you remember fragments?"

"She was different, Matt."

"How? Did she look different?"

"Her hair was lighter, in parts. But no, it wasn't her appearance. There was just something about her that was different. I mean, I recognized her the moment that she sat down – but I also recognized the difference in her from that moment. I can't explain it, it was just there. I can't really explain it well enough without remembering it all, either."

"So she wasn't Johanna? She wasn't herself, at all?"

"No. She wasn't the Johanna we remember."

"I wasn't.. I wasn't dumb enough to expect that, to expect that she would be the Johanna we know, but I had a little hope she'd be different. I had hope she wouldn't let everything be taken away from her when she turned off her humanity. I don't know, I guess I had hope that she'd fight harder to stay herself. Or at least keep some of herself. You know?"

"I know what you're saying, Matt. I know what you mean. Everyone reacts differently to turning their humanity, but it's important to remember that they all lose it – their humanity. She lost a part of herself whether she tried to fight for it, or not. That wasn't her choice to make. I don't think that she could fight it."

"I hate this. I hate that this happened, that she's going through this." Matt says, frustrated. He looks down at his phone as it begins to ring, frowning. "It's Sheriff Forbes. I guess I should take this."

Stefan nods, watching Matt closely as he answers the call and begins walking back in the direction of the house. Just as Matt is about to disappear from his sight, Sam appears, a cigarette hanging between his lips. He removes it and exhales, walking in Stefan's direction.

"Did Damon send you out here? I don't care what he says, we're burying Katherine's body." Stefan says firmly, folding his arms over his chest. "Damon can-"

"Damon didn't send me out here." Sam cuts across him. "Damon can't make people do what they want, as much as he wants to believe that he can. Anyway, he's a massive pain. I avoid him as much as I can, I don't know how anyone can stand him."

"Mmm." Stefan replies quietly. "What are you doing out here? I heard – I know, that you're sick."

"So you all know."

"I don't know who else knows about it, but I do."

"I didn't think you'd be coming back. From the way Damon talked about it, and how certain he was, I thought you'd never be back."

"Well, you don't know me. And maybe my brother doesn't know me as well as he likes to think he does."

"You saw her."

"I don't really want to talk about that again. I have nothing new to share, and if I did I'd share it. But I don't."

"I get it." Sam says, eyes flickering towards the shovel on the ground. "You don't have to do that. Dig that grave for her. I can."

"You're not – No, you don't have to. You didn't even know her, and besides, you're sick-"

"Don't. Don't use that as an excuse. My condition, it's something that I live with. I deal with it, and I know my limits. No one else can say what they are, and no one else can use my condition as an excuse to stop me from doing things. I said I would dig the grave for you, for her, and I will."

"I don't want you to do that for me. Not because you're sick, but because I have to do this. You don't have to understand why, and I'm not going to share the reasons behind it with you, but I have to do this. Okay, Sam? So you can go back inside. I don't need you out here."

"Fine."

Stefan watches on silently as Sam makes his way back to the front stairs of the house, limping slightly, and for a moment he considers not following him – but he does. With a sigh, Stefan starts walking after Sam, soon appearing at the front of the house where he finds Matt walking down the stairs, his phone in his hand.

"Sheriff Forbes just called me." Matt says slowly. "It's about Robert. He's dead. They, uh – They found his will. He changed it right before he died, and he left me the Grill."

"What?" Stefan frowns deeply, stepping closer. "Damon didn't tell you about Robert?"

"No, he didn't."

"They found his body in the woods. I'm sorry you didn't know."

Matt shakes his head, the confusion clear in his light eyes. "I barely knew him. Why would – Why would he leave the Grill in my name? It doesn't make any sense, Stefan."

"He left it all to you? Just you?" he frowns. "Did he have any family?"

"I don't think so. I guess not, because he didn't leave it to them. Sheriff Forbes said his lawyer contacted her. This feels weird, Stefan. I don't know, it just doesn't feel like something he'd do."

"Maybe you meant more to him than you realized."

"I barely knew the guy. He was an okay boss, but he treated me like crap, and we weren't close. It doesn't make sense."

"You don't have to think about it right now. Okay? That's not your responsibility. " Stefan says, voice quieter. "Just focus on yourself right now, Matt. Go home, rest. Focus on recovering. We'll deal with all of this soon."

"You need to check out of delusional town, Stefan. There is no way to deal with this, and he can't pretend like this is happening, like his boss isn't dead and hasn't just left him the Grill." Damon calls out. "We can't pretend, it gets us nowhere."

Sam looks up, unimpressed. "I don't think you're one to talk, Damon."

"Excuse me, scruffy? What did you just say?"

"I said you're not one to talk. You've been living in denial since Johanna left: denial that she'll come back, denial that she'll even want to be around you. You can't tell anyone else what to do, or how to deal with things, when you can't."

"You want to say that again, come closer. I'll put your other shoulder out of place."

"Wait, you did that?" Matt frowns, shocked. "You put his shoulder out of place?"

Damon looks to him, almost amused. "Is it really that surprising?"

"Matt can deal with things however he wants to deal with things." Stefan says finally. "And Damon, you need to learn how to deal with things without hurting people. We-"

"Don't, Stefan. Don't continue." Damon answers firmly. "I don't want to hear that. I don't want to hear that speech, coming from the golden, good brother because that's not what you are. That's not who you are, and you know it. You don't get to come back and judge how I deal with things, when you've been gone-"

"Are we doing this again, Damon? Are we having this conversation again?" Stefan sighs. "It hasn't even been one day, and we can't stop. We can't stop arguing. We won't be able to do anything if it keeps going on like this. You said it yourself, this is more than us. This is more than what's happened. This is about Johanna, and about everyone else. We come last. We have to."

"The next time you talk to me better be when you've remembered something about Johanna's location. Or it better be something important about her. If it's not, then don't bother because I really don't want to hear it."

After watching Damon walk away inside, Stefan turns back towards Matt and Sam and sighs, raising his hand to them as they begin to speak. He doesn't want to do this, he doesn't want to talk about what happened, and he can tell that they're too tired to actually want to talk about anything right now.

"Go rest, both of you." Stefan says, his feet beginning to lead him down to the side of the house, where he'd been planning on digging the grave for Katherine. "Matt, go home. Sam, go sleep. We'll meet up here later and figure out what we're doing next. There's nothing you can do today, trust me. I mean that. I might not seem that reliable right now, but I'm trying. Trust that."

Matt nods slowly. "We do."

With a brief nod of his head Stefan turns away, allowing his feet to guide him away from the house and down into the woods where he'd planned to dig a grave for Katherine. He's there in seconds, and finds himself staring silently at the damaged shovel for a moment, before picking it up and forcing it into the ground. He drops it away a moment later and moves to lean against a tree, eyes closing for a moment as he fights to keep it all together.

* * *

><p><em>Breathe in and out.<em>

_In._

_Out._

Matt has to remind himself of these simple instructions as he sits in his truck, his head firmly planted in his hands, his knees drawn up to his chest. He focuses on his breathing as he leans his head back against the seat, hands trembling slightly as he sets them down on his knees. This lasts for a few more minutes, until he slowly regains some sense of calm and is able to step outside of the vehicle. He's parked on the side of the road, about ten minutes away from the Boarding House.

He wanted to drive far enough away from there that no one would follow him, and he is relieved that they didn't. His feet lead him away from the car, but not far, just far enough that he doesn't feel closed in by the metal barriers – a flash goes before his eyes, of when he went off Wickery Bridge with Elena, and Matt almost jumps back into reality.

A car drives past his and he spins towards it, almost shocked, but it passes and the car carries on, leaving Matt alone once more. He digs his foot into the dirt then kicks it with frustration, hands still trembling slightly as he runs them through his hair and to his cheek, but they don't rest there long because the sensation of his hands pressed to his cheek is too warm, and almost makes him feel like he's suffocating beneath them.

After reminding himself to breathe again, he returns to the car but doesn't get inside, instead deciding to lean against the exterior and take a moment to gather his thoughts. His breathing falls back to an almost regular pattern shortly after, and Matt is able to return to the car, turning it in the direction of his house and driving steadily there. Soon he arrives home, feeling like he's arrive at a stranger's house because this isn't his home, it hasn't been in his home in a long time. He parks the car in the garage and sits in the darkness for a minute, as the realization that this was only a home when Johanna was here hits him.

This wasn't their home, but it was a home that they could share together, it was a place where they were both safe at times. He remembers the first night she stayed over, and how she slept on the couch, and then he remembers the pancakes, and the nights in they had together. Matt almost smiles but it falls away as his eyes brim with tears. His chest hurts, he physically aches, that's how much he misses Johanna. He's in pain thinking of her, and how he let her down, and how there's a very real chance that he may never see her again.

His fingers grip the steering wheel for a moment, knuckles turning white as he sees more flashes of their time together. _Team Human_. The lake-house. Back here, when they were smoking pot and eating so much food Matt thought he would explode. The tears hit his cheeks now and he slams his hands down onto the wheel, pulling back and leaning away from the seat, hands now raw from the impact. In the blur that passes Matt somehow ends up inside his house, and the first thing that his eyes settle on when he's inside is the sight of Meredith stepping out of the corridor, a gun in her hand. She drops the gun at the sight of Matt, sighing with relief.

"Matt, you scared me." she said, putting the gun away casually.

A frown flickers across Matt's features and he looks around the house, slowly looking back to her. "This is still my place. Isn't it?"

"Oh, right. Uh, yeah, about that..." Meredith trails off nervously, glancing down the hallway then back to him. "Look, it's really complicated, but I need to stay here for a while. I've got clothes, some of my things. I just need somewhere to lie low for a while."

"I wouldn't exactly call this somewhere to lie low." he says, still frowning. "When did you get here? How did you get in?"

"Vampires can't get inside, there's a barrier on the door. It's not just that." she admits, pausing. "I need this place for a little while. Is that okay? I know I should have asked, or said something, but you were gone, and this place was empty."

"Look, Meredith, I don't know.. I just think I really need some time to myself."

"It'll be like I'm not even here."

Matt follows the pile of bags against the wall, frowning when he spots a man's shirt on top of the pile. His eyes flicker back towards Meredith, who followed his gaze and is now walking towards him.

"Is there someone else here? Who do you have in my house?"

"This is really important, Matt. I know what it looks like right now. I'm here without your permission, and it might seem confusing, or like it's not important, but it is. It's so important that I don't think I can risk telling you, because I can't risk someone compelling the information from you."

"I have my vervain bracelet on, and I'm going to start taking vervain..As soon as I can. Okay? So whatever it is, just tell me. I need to know what's going on." Matt steps closer, concerned.

Meredith runs her fingers through her hair, hesitating. "You remember when the veil went down, and Bonnie put it back up, Cedric helped."

"Yeah, and he was missing after. Why, what-" Matt stops suddenly, looking back at the shirt briefly. He looks back at Meredith slowly. "He's dead, isn't he?"

She shakes her head, folding her arms over herself, her hand moving to rest on her chest, near her collarbones. "He's not dead, Matt. He's just sick. Well he's not sick yet, but he will be soon. He's going to get sicker, and we need somewhere for him to rest."

"What's he sick with? That doesn't make sense. He's a hybrid. How can he get sick?"

"No one else knows but Damon, so this has to stay between us. Jeremy can't know, no one can know."

Matt agrees, nodding. "Okay, no one else can know. What happened to him?"

"Cedric isn't a hybrid anymore. When the veil was going down, he found Silas and Katherine at the school. Silas revealed his true form, he revealed that Cedric was actually his doppelgänger and not Stefan. And then he forced Katherine and Cedric to take the cure."

His eyes widen, shocked. "He's human?"

"He is, and he's still adjusting to that. Cedric isn't sick yet, but Katherine was and it's only time until he gets sick too. I want to speak with her again, about all of this. Maybe I can study her symptoms, figure out what exactly she's experiencing and how long she's been experiencing it for."

Matt clenches his jaw tightly together, painfully. "Meredith, there's something you need to know. We don't know what happened to her, or when it happened, and I only just found out from Sam..."

"What happened to who? Katherine?"

"Yeah. Katherine's dead. Someone killed her. And before you say it, Sam said it wasn't Damon. There's no way it could have been Damon. It happened when he wasn't there, and then -" he stops suddenly, almost spilling Alaric's return to Meredith.

"And then what, Matt?"

"I can't say, not yet. I don't know if I should." he says, glancing away. "Just know that I'd tell you if I could. I'll have to ask if I can tell you."

Meredith steps closer, concern filling her features. "You're worrying me."

"Just trust me. Trust me that it's not bad, not like you're thinking, and trust that I'd tell you if I could. I can't tell you right now, and it's for the best. Trust that, trust me."

"Okay, Matt. I trust you. I won't push you on this, I'll wait until you know that you can tell me. Just..Tell me soon, please."

Matt nods quickly. "I'll find out soon for you. I just want to shower first. Get some clean clothes."

"Oh, Cedric is in your room. I hope that's okay. It was just the first room-"

"It's fine." he says tiredly, his mind and body feeling exhausted. "Can I go in to get some clean clothes?"

"Of course, it's still your place. We're just using it to recover."

"I understand. So only Damon knows about this? How do you know he won't say anything?"

"He won't say anything, because he understands how important this all is, how important keeping this a secret. Especially if Katherine was murdered by someone else, we can't risk anyone else finding out about Cedric yet. It's too risky. He can't have that kind of risk right now, not in the state that he's in."

Matt nods and moves to pick his bag up, slinging it over his shoulder. "Is he sleeping now? I don't want to wake him if he is."

"No, he's not sleeping. You can go in. Just.."

"I know. I won't look at him differently, but I won't pretend that he's the same. I get it. I'm good at that."

"At what?" Meredith asks quietly, unfolding her arms.

"I'm good at knowing what people need. How they need me to act, how they need things to be. Well I used to me. My mom.." he trails off briefly, sighing. "Forget it. I'm just gonna grab some things, then I'll have a shower. I'll leave you two alone tonight. The couch is fine."

"Matt, you don't have to sleep on the couch. There are other rooms-"

"No, I can't. I can't sleep in there." he says quickly, because he can't go in there.

Both of those rooms belong to ghosts – a mother who was never there, and a sister who never had a chance. Matt can't bring himself to visit those rooms, and he can't even consider the thought of sleeping in there. He won't do it, he physically can't, his feet won't allow him to.

"I can't stay in there. Cedric can stay in my room. You can take my mom's room, if you like. But that other room, I don't want anyone else in there. Alright?"

"Okay, Matt. It's okay. We won't go in there. I respect what you want. I'll respect those wishes."

After looking up briefly, Matt fixes up the bag strap over his shoulder and leaves the kitchen, walking slowly down the corridor and to his bedroom. The door is already open when he reaches it, so Matt just has to step inside to see Cedric, who is alert and looks up at the sound of someone in the doorway.

Matt wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting to find when he stepped into the room, but he wasn't expecting to find Cedric like this – he doesn't look different, but he looks empty, vulnerable, and it immediately reminds him of what Stefan said about Johanna.

"_She was different, Matt."_

And he'd asked Stefan how it could just be there – _how could she just be different?_ He understands now, not entirely, not about Johanna, but to some degree Matt understands how it can just happen, how someone can have mild differences in their appearance but look so remarkably different on the outside that they're almost unrecognizable. Cedric's hair is longer than it was, and he's grown a little stubble on his face. There are bruises and gashes all over his skin, and fresh scars covered with bandages. The blue blanket is pulled up to his waist, and he's resting propped up against the pillows. He doesn't look all that different, apart from the scars, and the bruises and blood marking his face, but his eyes look different. Dull. Vulnerable. _Empty._

"I didn't think you'd be alive." Matt says the first thing that comes to his mind.

"Neither did I."

His eyes stay focused on Matt as he slowly enters the room, setting his bag down on the floor. Matt glances around the room briefly, before fixing his attention back to Cedric. He looks exhausted, and Matt tries not to stare to obviously but he can't help it.

"You're back?" Cedric asks quietly.

"I had to come back for her.."

"I know, Meredith told me about Johanna." he says weakly. "I don't know it all but I know enough, and I can't talk about it right now. I can't talk about her yet."

Matt nods slowly. "I understand, I'm not here to talk. I'm just grabbing some things for my room."

"How is everyone else?" Cedric asks, watching as he gathers some items. "I didn't ask Meredith, I could tell that she wouldn't be able to answer it without lying. You don't have to lie. How is everyone? Jeremy? Elena?"

"Elena's fine, she's with Bonnie. They're recovering. And I haven't been back long enough to tell you honestly how Jeremy is, but he's stressed."

"What about Damon?"

With a shrug, Matt folds his arms over his chest and redirects his gaze to the ground. "Not good. The same for Stefan. They're struggling, they all are, but they're coping because we don't have a choice anymore. We have to do this, we have to keep going, no matter what we're dealing with on our own."

"What about Enzo? I last saw him..Some time ago. I can't remember." Cedric admits quietly, eyes focused on his hands. "My memories slow, I've been out of it for days. Where is he?"

"He's okay. I think Meredith should tell you all about that. Meredith can tell you it all. Enzo is okay, don't worry. He's safe. She should tell you what happened, though. Get some rest." Matt says quietly, eyes flickering towards a photograph on the nightstand, of him with Johanna and Jeremy. He glances away quickly. "You can stay here as long as you need to."

After leaving the room, Matt ventures down towards the bathroom and steps inside, closing the door and locking it once he's inside. He sets the clean clothes down on the basin and stretches out on it, his hands flat as he lowers his head. The sound of his phone ringing in his pocket disturbs him and he pulls it out, frowning as he sees Damon's caller ID appear on the screen.

"Damon, what is it?" he asks, picking up immediately. There's a tone of concern to his voice, because he knows that Damon wouldn't be calling him unless it was important, and he absolutely had to.

"_You've talked with Meredith, haven't you?" _

"Yeah, she said you knew. Why? How do you know-"

"_It was just a guess. I heard where you went. Don't say it, we don't need to say it explicitly. Just tell Meredith that we found Natasha. And by we, I mean Tyler. I never though I'd be glad to have him back, or that I'd think he was anything but a beefed up moron, but he found Natasha in the woods. She was in one of the cellars. Long story short, he was out there running and followed noises he heard to her. We've got her at the house, bleeding out of vervain. We'll be able to compel ourselves a cure for the Ripper Compound. Tell Meredith to come over as soon as she can, we'll need her help on this. And you, stay with the patient. Okay? We don't know what's going to happen to him, so just stay close."_

Matt nods, stepping back towards the mirror and lowering his head. "I'll stay with him while she's helping you."

"_Good. If I get new information, I'll call you."_

"What about Ric? Will you tell Meredith?"

_Damon hesitates, and is silent for a minute."That's his decision. I think that the less people know right now, the better. But we can't exactly keep it from her, can we?"_

"I don't know. You're right that it's his call, Damon. We can't make that decision for him."

"_I'll talk to him later. Or Stefan will. Just send Meredith over whenever she's free, we need her help." Damon says, pausing for a moment. "How is she?"_

"She's fine, I guess. We didn't talk that much, not about her. We mostly talked about him."

"_How is he?"_

"Different. But the same? I don't know. I'm not making much sense, I'm jet-lagged."

"_Shower. Eat. Rest. Take care of yourself, alright? Johanna would kick my ass if I didn't keep you in line." Damon says, pausing. "Well, she's probably going to kick my ass anyway. But if I let you fall apart while she's gone, she's going to kick my ass harder."_

Matt sniffs, lifting his head up to look at his reflection in the mirror. His eyes are watering. "Yeah, she would. She would..."

_Damon sighs heavily, and his words sound shakier when he speaks again, but he sounds like he believes them. "I said I'd find her, that I'd let her make the choice after we get her back. I will. And I'll let her know the truth about it all, what we did, how we used her. That wasn't your idea, and it wasn't your choice to keep it secret. This isn't on you, Matt. Stop carrying the guilt of it all on your shoulders, it doesn't belong there."_

"That's weird. Not so long ago you told me the exact opposite thing. Remember?"

"_Fondly." Damon says flatly. "Things changed. I realized things.."_

"What else did you realize?"

"_Those realizations are for me to work on, they don't involve you. Go shower, I can smell you from here. Eat. Relax. Stay with the patient. I'll check in on you in a little while. Don't do anything stupid, and don't get yourself killed."_

"I'll try." he says flatly, rubbing at his head as he feels a headache coming on.

"_You have to do better than that. You can't just try, you have to pull through. You have to do things now, Matt. We have to do things. You have to keep yourself together, because when Johanna gets back she'll want her best-friend around."_

"I know you don't think it right now, but there's a chance she'll want you around too."

"_There's a chance she will, and there's a chance she won't. Just like there's a chance we'll never get her back at all. This entire situation is risky, but we just have to accept it and deal with it. Now go. I have more important things to do than talk to you."_

Once the conversation has ended Matt steps out of the bathroom and finds Meredith in the kitchen, making a small meal for Cedric. He informs her of the situation and the discovery of Natasha, and after quickly saying goodbye to Cedric she leaves, the house falling into a silence on she is gone.

Matt finishes making the meal for Cedric in the kitchen and carries it into the room, entering to find Cedric sleeping. He leaves the meal by the bed and steps out of the room, returning to the shower, where he checks his phone and discovers a new message.

**ELENA: Jeremy said you were back home. How are you? **

A few minutes pass by as Matt stares at the screen, unsure of what he will say back, and all the while his mind swirls with thoughts and conversations – most importantly, he thinks of what Damon said, how using Johanna wasn't his fault. Damon, Stefan and Elena were behind it. It was their plan, their idea, and for some reason Matt can't fight the anger he feels at this. He understands why they did it, he always did, but the anger at this, at their betrayal of her trust, is still there with him and it's almost winning.

**MATT: I'm fine. How's Bonnie?**

**ELENA: She's ok. We're taking a few more days b4 we come back. Is everything okay?**

He runs his hands over his face as he moves to sit on the cold floor, head leaning back against the wall. Matt retypes the message several times before eventually pressing send.

**MATT: I said I'm fine, Elena.**

**ELENA: You don't seem it. Can I call? **

**MATT: Sorry, I'm busy right now. Maybe later.**

When he's in the shower a few minutes later his phone beeps with a new message but he ignores it and stays in the shower, the warm water running down his shoulders and almost soothing his body – until he feels a sharp pain in his head and lifts his hands to it, clutching his forehead tightly. Matt's fingers tremble again as he holds them to his head, the shooting pain running through his head and down his spine.

_Breathe in and out._

A groan escapes his lips as he pulls away from the water and stumbles towards the tiled wall of the shower, leaning against it and shutting his eyes tightly. The pain doesn't pass for a moment, and Matt can't avoid it, he can't escape it. It almost overpowers him, and then it just disappears, and he's left kneeling on the shower with a freshly bruised eye from where he fell and hit the tiles.

_In._

With shaking hands he pulls himself up from his knees, but doesn't stand just yet, and instead takes a moment to sit on the floor of the shower as the water cascades over him. The sharp pain is gone now, but he feels weaker and needs a moment to recover from it.

Matt's entire body seizes unexpectedly, his legs twitching, chest jolting, and before he can call out for help he blacks out.

_Out._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Four days later.<strong>_

"_News from Boston, Massachusetts: Authorities have confirmed that the six people found mutilated and drained of blood in their homes and the surrounding areas over the past several day were connected through social circles and professions."_

The glass slips out of Stefan's hand as he hears those words coming from the television, and he looks up from where he stands in the bedroom, forgetting that he'd been carrying the glass to the nightstand to fill it up with blood for Alaric. On the bed beside him, Alaric sits up straighter, eyes fixated on the screen just as Stefan's are. _Boston. _The news reports that these attacks occurred in Boston, that's where Damon believes that Johanna was last, where she gave him the dream. Even if she wasn't there then, Stefan finds it too coincidental that six men have died in Johanna's old hometown.

"_The similarities of the attacks have led the authorities to the conclusion that the bodies found in the wood were not a result of an animal attack. They are looking at the same motive and killer here."_

"No." Alaric exhales shakily, moving from the bed slowly, feet dangling from the side. He moves so he's standing beside Stefan, and takes a step towards the television.

"_At the current moment the authorities do not have a main suspect or any witnesses to these crimes, however they are confident that the evidence left at the scenes will lead them to the person or persons responsible for these shocking crimes. They urge the public to come forward with any information they may have, or any suspicious behaviour that they may witness."_

Stefan turns towards Alaric, examining his exterior briefly; for someone who looked like death only a few days ago, he appears to have recovered better than expected, but he is still weak, and he still hasn't spoken in much detail about what he went through to come here. The only explanation that he gave them was that he just woke up in the cemetery, and the sun was coming out, so without a ring he was forced to seek refuge in the same tomb that he'd died in the first time, and he's been in there for days, waiting for the strength to leave.

"That's not her. We don't know that it's her." Stefan says quickly, a reassuring hand moving to Alaric's shoulder. He guides him back towards the bed. "Just calm down, Ric. Don't freak out. We don't know that it's her, but just to be safe I'll get in contact with Elijah. I'll see if they can send someone down there, find out what happened and try to learn what information or evidence the police have. We don't know that it's her."

"We need to find out who those men were. They could be people from her past. Our past."

"Just calm down, Ric. Please. She's okay, she wouldn't do that. Even with no humanity, you know your sister. Just think about that." he says, hand still pressed to Alaric's shoulder It's how I'm getting through this, remembering that I know her. You knew her, Rick, more than I did. If I can see that she wouldn't do this, can't you see it too?"

Ric sighs and nods his head slowly. "You're right. You are. I know her, I know what she's capable of and what she's not capable of. She wouldn't do this. But I still think we should look into it. We should send someone down there, and we should find out who these men were, why they were connected."

"We'll look into it, and we'll send someone to Boston, but right here, right now, you need to take care of yourself. That's what Johanna would want, you know that. So take care of yourself, let us take care of you, then we'll move on to other things."

"You're going to give me more than that, aren't you? More than "other things." You're going to have to tell me more, Stefan." he says, stepping away from the bed. Alaric straightens himself, and holds Stefan's gaze, a determined look growing over his face. "You are going to tell me, because I can't do this anymore. I can't spend another four days in this room with visitors who are purposely keeping things from me. I can't keep going without knowing what's going on, Stefan."

Stefan nods and combs his fingers through his hair, dropping them to his side. He sighs, and steps forward. "I'm here to fill you in on it all, Alaric. Just sit back down, let me get you some blood, turn the tv off, and I'll fill you in on all of it."

"Where's Martin?"

"He's at the Lake-house still." Stefan answers, watching the expression change over Alaric's face, it's only small but he catches it. "Sam's still with him, I talked with him this morning actually. Martin's okay. He's struggling with being sober, but he's okay."

"He's struggling with the fact that he has one son back from the dead, one daughter missing, and another son missing."

"Yeah, that too."

"That too." Alaric mumbles quietly, sitting down slowly.

Stefan returns to the bed with the glass of blood, extending it to Alaric slowly. He takes the glass and drinks it whole, handing it back to Stefan once he's done, and leaning back against the pillows.

"I hate this room."

"It's actually one of the nicer-"

"I hate being stuck here. It's not this room, Stefan. It's not just this stupid room, it's this frustrating situation where I'm left feeling completely and totally helpless, useless and alone."

"Okay, three things: First, you're recovering and you still need time. You might be an Original Vampire, but you went through something weird, something draining, to get back here and you need to heal properly before you get back out there. Second thing: You don't have a ring, and Bonnie won't be back for five more days. So you better get used to this room, you'll be seeing a lot more of it over the next few days. And the last thing: We're still working on your cover story. Remember you were killed, right? People mourned you. Not just us. Some of your other students. People in this town. There needs to be a real cover story. We're still working on that, give us time to make it real."

"I understand, Stefan. I just feel so useless in here."

"Alaric, I know what you're going through-"

"You don't actually, Stefan. You don't know. Not right now, not this situation."

"No, not this situation but I've lost Damon before, to no humanity. I know what it's like, and how useless you must be feeling. But I know that there's always a chance, even if it doesn't seem like it. There's a chance to bring them back; you can bring her back."

"I don't know yet, Stefan. Honestly, I don't know that I can bring her back, and I can't talk about it right now. I want to focus on other things, on our plans, so talk to me. You came here to fill me in, I know you've had a busy few days. I've heard things here and there, so fill me in."

Stefan nods with understanding, because he knows what Alaric is going through, to some extent. He's lost his sibling before, and he has, on too many different occasions, watched his sibling spiral down, and he's been helpless to stop it.

"You know that we found Natasha. You know who she is, I already told you about her, what she did, what her parents did-"

"I know, they caught Damon and Johanna. They nearly killed them, I know. What about Natasha? Has she found a cure yet for the Ripper Compound?"

"We bled her vervain out and compelled her to make a cure, but it's not that easy. She didn't create the cure, but she's learning what's in the Compound to create an antidote. Damon's down in the lab with her today, Meredith will join him later. They're close to finding a cure."

"Speaking of Meredith, how's Matt?"

"He's fine." Stefan replies, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Well, he's as fine as he can be. Meredith did scans on him at the hospital, tested him, she said there was nothing wrong with him. No reason for him to have that seizure, so she sent him home. She's monitoring him closely, and he'll go in for regular checks to see, but they haven't found anything."

"Jeremy..Has he been visiting him a lot?"

"Not really. Matt said he didn't want visitors, not for a while. So they just talk on the phone, but I don't really know. Jeremy doesn't talk about it a lot. He doesn't talk much about anything, lately. So I don't know."

"Mmm." Alaric hums, hands clutched together. "How's Meredith?"

"She's fine. Shocked that you're back, but she's fine. Glad you're back. We all are."

Alaric glances away again, and a clear look of weariness spreads over his face. He shouldn't be tired, and physically he's not, it's something deeper than that. "That's why Damon has been avoiding me too."

"Damon hasn't been avoiding you, Alaric."

"Come on, Stefan, everyone has been avoiding me. Damon can't look at me because he feels too guilty about Johanna, and he probably still feels guilty about how I died. Jeremy hasn't been in to see me in four days, I don't know what that's all about but I can't ask him because I can't leave the room. And Martin? He's the same as Jeremy, won't talk to me, won't answer my calls. I might be a little selfish here, but I thought that me coming back from the dead would be a good thing for them, somehow it's not, somehow it's bad."

"It is a good thing, Ric. It is. It's just..You came back at a bad time."

Alaric looks up immediately, and a frown settles upon his face. He tilts his head back slightly, clearly unimpressed by Stefan's choice of words. "Sorry. Next time I'll try to return from the Other Side at a more convenient time."

"That's not what I meant, and you know that."

"I know what you meant, Stefan, and I know that there's a lot going on, but if it was me, if someone else was in my position, I would be glad they were back. They're all avoiding me like I've done something wrong, and I haven't. This wasn't my choice to come back, and if I had the choice I'd still return. I never wanted to die, Stefan. I didn't want to be dead."

"You haven't done anything wrong, Ric. You didn't do anything wrong. You deserve to be back, to be alive. They all know that. They'll come around, trust me."

"I do, I just don't believe that they'll come around. Not yet. Maybe not until Johanna's back. And even if they do come around, I'm still pissed because this isn't okay. The avoidance..It's not okay. I didn't do anything to deserve this."

Stefan reaches out to put a hand on Alaric's shoulder. "I know, okay? I know. It's not your fault, you know that. It's not their fault either, they just have a lot going on right now. You just have to have patience."

"You'd think that I would, considering how long I spent on the Other Side. But surprisingly no, that just made me more impatient."

He drops his hand away from Alaric's shoulder, and hesitates. "Okay, back to updating you on things..Elena and Bonnie will be back in five days, like I said earlier. If we find a cure for the Ripper Compound, Damon is going to be the first to test it because he's Damon, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Enzo will be injected with the cure after it is proven to work, and he will be freed because we had no right to keep him here."

"Do you think he's a threat, Stefan?"

"I don't know, but I don't think that it's right to keep him in chains considering what he's gone through, and how long he's been in chains for. But I don't think we can make that decision just yet. We have to talk to him, after he's cured, see what kind of head-space he's in. If Cedric was here, he might be able to reason with him. Get him to calm down."

Alaric sits up straighter on the bed, and runs his hands over his forehead. He sighs and keeps his hands pressed to his face for a moment, body hunched over slightly.

"Who is Cedric?"

"One of Klaus' Hybrids. Well he's not anymore. He was, but he's not. That's pretty much all that I know about him, except that he was friends with Johanna. Close friends. And he was beginning to get to know Meredith." Stefan says, stopping suddenly as he remembers something very important. "Oh, and I don't know if anyone has told you yet, but he's kind of Isobel's half brother. Making him Elena's half-uncle."

He looks up at Stefan with a deep frown on his look, but there's no shock or surprise in his eyes. "I can't say that I'm surprised. This town is filled with twists like that. So he knew – I don't understand. Was he in contact with Isobel? Because I never knew about him, I never heard of her half brother."

"They were in contact briefly, I think. That's all I know."

"Anything else to fill me in on?"

"No, that's it for now. But I'm sure something new will happen, and you won't be the first to know but you'll be on the list of people to eventually tell." Stefan says, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Come on, it's a joke, Alaric. Don't tell me you dying killed your sense of humor."

"Sometimes you're an ass just like your brother. Not exactly like him, not as bad as him, but close. Very close." Alaric says angrily, folding his arms. "Just like him.."

Stefan steps away from the bed, turning away briefly. "If it makes you feel any better, Alaric, he's avoiding me too. Worse than you. He hates me."

"He doesn't hate you."

"Yes, he does. Damon hates me for what I did, leaving him when he needed me the most. Abandoning him. He doesn't see why I did what I did, he's just angry."

"I see it. I see why you did what you did. I'm pissed that you left your brother to deal with it alone, and honestly, Stefan, I'm pissed with all of you for what you did to my sister. It takes all of my self-restraint not to punch you and Damon. Repeatedly. I don't hate you for what you did to Johanna, and that's worse than what you did to Damon. He doesn't hate you, he hates himself. He hates what you did, what you all did, but he doesn't hate you."

"I don't believe that, I can't. I know my brother, and I can see the hatred in his eyes when he looks at me. I know part of that hate is directed to himself, but most of it is for me. I can see it, Alaric. It's there when he looks at me, and that's why I know he hates me." Stefan answers, voice quieter. "And I don't want to talk about this anymore, Alaric. I don't. It can't be about me, or about Damon, right now. There are more important things going on, you know that. You're more important than this. So rest. Don't watch too much television, and don't do anything stupid. You only have to spend a few more days in here until you get the ring, then you can go back to doing whatever you want to do."

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><p><strong>AN: Hi, all! **Sorry it took me a while to update, I've been dealing with some things but I'm back now, and hoping to update more frequently. A lot happens in this chapter, but the next one is one of my favourites...So I'll probably try to update that soon after this one. Reviews are appreciated. I like knowing what you think of the story, and whether you're still enjoying it.

**Adela - Chapter 3:** Thanks for your review, Adela! I know you're excited about Johanna and Damon being reunited, so I wanted to let you know that they will be reunited in chapter 8! I know that seems far away, but some interesting things happen before that, and it's going to be an epic reunion - I'll just say that!

**x**


	5. Red Tacks

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and claim nothing. Vampires Diaries is copyright to its respective owners. Nothing is being claimed and no money is being made.**

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><p><strong>February 18<strong>**th**** – 3 months and 2 weeks later.**

The voices in the distance of the Boarding House are white-noise to Damon, as his fingers brush over the large map pinned over the wall, eyes flickering past the colored tacks stuck into various locations. He reaches for a red tack on a nearby table and picks it up, the sharp tip digging into his skin until he finds the place that he's looking for. Sparrows Point, Baltimore. The red tack stands out its location on a map a moment later, and he steps back to take in the view.

The red tacks represent confirmed kills, the green tacks represent cases where the victim is believed dead but no body has been located, while the white tacks show how many are missing - not confirmed dead, just missing. The little red circles on the board form together, sweeping over and overpowering the green and white. Damon takes a second step away from the map, his eyes skimming over it in closer detail this time, searching for a clue, something that would explain the lack of pattern, or consistency, in these kills. There are pictures pinned to the wall too, with faces of the dead, the missing, and the unconfirmed. These image range from family portraits, to the scenes of the _very_ bloody crimes.

It's nothing new to Damon, the bloody murders, the decapitated victims. It shouldn't shock him, but it does, because it all belongs to _her. _This is Johanna's work, this is who, or what, she has become in their separation. This is what they've done her, and that shocks him, but more than anything, it stirs a deep, dark depression inside of him that he wouldn't fight even if he had the will to.

The door to his bedroom shuts behind him, but Damon doesn't glance back, he remains in his trance, eyes stuck to the board as he tries to find a solution, tries to find a pattern. There has to be a pattern, there has to be a reason why the murders and attacks have spread so far out of Boston, over to Philadelphia, and then Pittsburgh, and now to Baltimore.

"Have you gone crazy again?" Jeremy asks from behind him.

Before speaking, Damon knew that it was Jeremy, from the sound of his footsteps, the way he walked, even the quiet and sometimes annoying way that he breathed. He found that when he was lost in this kind of trance, his other senses became heightened, and he hated it because he wanted to keep all of his focus, and all of his senses, on this. Jeremy's sneakers are unusually loud as they move across the floor, and Damon tries to ignore this but he can't. He can't stay here, in this, focusing on all of this until he's alone. He knows that the only solution, the only way to get Jeremy to leave, is to put up the act.

"I'm not crazy, dumbass."

Damon turns away from the wall and faces Jeremy, observing him quietly from afar for a brief second. There are dark circles under Jeremy's eyes, and he seems tired, hungover probably. Despite the evident tiredness on his face, physically Jeremy seems bigger, and stronger than he has ever been.

"What do you want?"

"Didn't you hear anything I said-"

"I heard the start, then I tuned out. I don't have the time to listen to the dumbass station anymore." Damon says, walking in his direction. "What are you doing here? How many times do I have to make it clear, this is my room. Not yours, not anyone else's. Mine. Wait, no, first tell me what you're doing here. I haven't seen you in what, a week? Too bad you broke that run. Let's try for a month this time."

"I just came to get some more stuff, Damon."

Damon rolls his eyes, walking towards the decanters. He picks himself up a glass, ignoring the pair of eyes that are burning against his skin as he does this. The liquor fills the glass quickly, and he swallows it just as fast, setting the empty glass down and turning back to face the dark-eyed teenager in front of him.

"Come on, Jeremy. That fire burnt most of your stuff.. You have, what? Two bags. Maybe, if that. You have two bags, you didn't come here for stuff. You came here to check on Elena, who is..Out somewhere. With Bonnie. I don't really know, because I don't care. I didn't listen, all that I know is that she went out this morning."

"I came to see you."

"I'm touched." Damon mockingly places a hand over his chest. "And I'm busy, so leave. Out of my room, _now_."

"Did she do all of that?"

"You know the answer, Jeremy. We already talked about this. All of us. Remember, that wonderful group therapy session that we had in my parlor? Yeah, that. That was a day that I'll certainly never forget. The day that Stefan The Hero decided to tell the entire group that my girlfriend was a humanity free killer, who has at least thirty confirmed kills in the past fourteen weeks. The same brother who reminded me it was likely to be double that number, we just hadn't found the bodies yet."

"I know all of that already, Damon, that's not what I was asking. I meant, do you think that she really did all of that? Do you think she's responsible for all of those deaths?"

"I'm not doing this. We're not talking about this."

"Matt wants to know too. You can tell me now, and I'll tell him. Or you'll have to explain it twice. Do you want that? Matt here, in your room, annoying you?" Jeremy asks, folding his arms over his chest. "You don't really want that. Do you, Damon?"

Damon narrows his eyes in on Jeremy, and he watches him for a moment, holding his ground. He is annoyingly accurate – Damon doesn't want Matt coming into his room, looking at the details pinned across the walls. He doesn't want Jeremy here either, but he might be able to kill two birds with one stone, by filling Jeremy in with information for both of them and then sending them both on their way. Far away from him.

With a great sigh, Damon steps towards the map, and the pictures spread across the board. He lifts his hand, gesturing towards the red tacks.

"Red tacks are confirmed kills." he says, moving towards the other tacks. "Green means there was no body found, but a lot of blood, or a lot of evidence of a murder. And white is..Missing. Just gone."

"That doesn't answer my question at all, Damon. I asked if you thought it was Johanna, and pointing to some tacks on the wall doesn't answer that."

"The murders started in Boston, and Johanna's last confirmed location was in Boston. It started there, and two of the men involved -" Damon stops briefly, swallowing thickly. "Two of the men killed had a history of violence. The men killed in Boston were all linked, and one of them lived in the area near the location of the Saltzman's old house. Alaric remembers a few of them used to bang his mother. There? That what you wanted to hear?"

"That doesn't mean anything, that's not solid evidence."

"Jeremy, it's her." he says quietly.

"You don't know that."

"I do, I know that it's her." Damon says simply, then gestures towards the door. "I answered your question, I filled you in. There was another victim in Baltimore. You know everything that you wanted to, now go fill in Quarterback and leave me alone."

"I'm here because I'm worried about you. We're all worried about you."

"_We_?"

"Yeah, we're worried. All of us."

Damon steps back in Jeremy's direction, a tiredness now sweeping over him, because he's tired of talking about the same thing over again. He's tired of people caring about him, when they should be caring about themselves, and about everyone else. He doesn't need that, he doesn't need their worries right now, and they don't need it either.

"I've already had several mind-numbing versions of this conversation, with Alaric, and Elena, and then Stefan tried but I stopped him. Martin called, and he tried to talk to me. I'm not almost done, I am done. So done, Jeremy. It'd be better for you, and for me, if you just stopped. You're all concerned about me? Then shut up, and then I won't have as much stress."

Jeremy nods a moment later, surprisingly unaffected by this. "Have you talked to Stefan lately? You said he tried to talk to him. You've seen him?"

"He still lives here. So, yeah. We run into each other sometime, and have an awkward hallway moment." Damon says sarcastically. "Yes, I see him around the house sometimes. But the whole enhanced hearing thing is great when trying to avoid people."

"What about Alaric?"

"Again. We also have the awkward hallway moment sometimes."

"Damon, don't you care that you're pushing people away? Elena said-"

"Just stop. I don't want to hear the rest of that."

"Elena said that you stay in your room most of the time, and Alaric and Stefan don't bother you because it feels like you hate both of them."

"If they have something to say to me, that have fully functioning bodies. They can come see me and say it to me. I'm done talking through a messenger."

"You're doing this, Damon. No one else."

"We're done now, so you can go." Damon folds his arm, unimpressed. It takes all of his strength to say the next words. "Did you, or anyone else, ever stop to think that maybe I just don't care about any of you anymore? Maybe I just care about Johanna more than I care about any of you?"

"Just stop, Damon. We both know you don't actually mean what you're saying, you're just trying to push everyone away because you're hurt. You're hurt, and you're a little scared, and you don't want anyone else to see it so you're trying to push us away. So do it, push them away. But I see through it, they do too. I'm not believing this."

"Leave, Jeremy. Go." Damon says belatedly, turning his back on him. The images and maps on his wall come back into focus, as he sets his gaze on them again. "We're done here, run back to the group now and tell them how you failed your mission."

"I'm worried about the others." Jeremy admits, taking a step away. His boot hits the carpet, as he takes two more steps back. "I know you don't want to hear it, and I am leaving, I just wanted you to know that I'm worried about them too."

"Why?" he asks flatly.

"They're worried about you, and about each other. There's a lot going on. Alaric is trying to readjust with being alive again-"

"What would you know about that?" Damon snaps back around, an anger rising inside of him that he struggles to fight. "What the hell would you know about that? Where have you been for the past three months? Crashing at Tyler's house. Staying there, instead of here. Avoiding your sister, after she was gone for so long. Your sister who still needs you. Avoiding Alaric, and then having the nerve to try to talk to me like you know what the hell is going on in his life, or anyone else's lives. You don't know either, Jeremy. You don't. I'm here. You haven't been. And I don't expect you to be."

"I haven't been staying here, but I've still been here. I'm still here. That's more than you've done. You're here but you're hiding. You're fading away from them."

"Look at you. A couple phone calls from a concerned Elena, and you think you know what's going on. You think you know what it's like, but you don't."

"Are we really arguing-"

"Things can't go back to how they were before, but there is a chance that we can find Johanna. I don't know if we can get her back, or if we can help her, but we can do something. And you standing here, talking to me about this isn't helping. It's delaying the process, and it's wasting my time, Jeremy. So go do something else. Talk to Elena. Go visit Alaric. Go pick up some more shifts at the Grill to help Matt out. Show them that you actually give a crap, instead of talking to me. Save us both some time, and leave."

After a moment of watching him, Jeremy turns away and leaves the room slowly, without looking back, and after he's gone Damon stares after him. He hears Jeremy's footsteps fading down the corridor, and turns away from the closed door, eyes immediately resettling on the covered walls. Red comes into his vision first, but it's unfocused again, unclear.

Now Damon's thoughts revolve around the rest of the group, and all of the words that Jeremy just echoed won't leave his mind alone. He shuts his eyes and steps away from the door, a hand moving to his forehead for a minute as he attempts to keep out the voices. It doesn't work for long, but the voices disappear for a little while, and that's almost enough until it's not anymore.

Sometime later Damon finds himself downstairs in the parlor, pouring himself a drink, and from where he stands he can hear someone moving around in the kitchen. He keeps his head down, and ignores it, until eventually the voices come towards him, and when he lifts up he is almost surprised to see Meredith here, carrying an empty brown bag.

"I had some extra food, so I-"

"Jeremy doesn't live here anymore. Not really." Damon cuts across her, the drink swirling around in his hand as he takes a step away from the table. "You know that."

"I thought he might visit, sometimes. It's for anyone who gets hungry, too."

"I'm not hungry, not for food." Damon almost grimaces, before finishing off his drink.

"Have you seen her today?" Meredith takes a step closer. "Natasha?"

"You brought the food for her?" he looks up. "Really, Meredith? She's not our problem anymore."

"She's working on a cure, for the Ripper Compound, Damon. She's so close. It is our problem, especially since she's working in your house. That makes it your problem. And not feeding her, not letting her have enough daylight, that's your problem."

"You're not going in there with her. She's volatile."

"Yeah, Stefan mentioned how she stabbed you in the neck with the broken glass."

Damon half smiles, looking up again. "That was pleasant."

"I can go in there, Damon. I can handle myself."

"No, you can leave and go do something better. Here's an idea: Go do your job."

Meredith shakes her head, a frown crossing her features. "Wait, Stefan didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

She folds the bag up, walking to where Damon stands. "I'm taking a few weeks off from work. Paid leave. I've saved up enough of it, so I'm taking some time off. There's a replacement doctor coming in for a while, he's from out of town. A small clinic, he'd like the experience here."

Damon tilts his head to the side, a feeling of curiosity bubbling up inside of him as he wonders why she would do this, why she would choose to take the leave now. She doesn't need to. She's been working for the past three months, so he wonders now what changed.

"I'm fine, Damon, so you can stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" he asks.

"Like I'm broken. Like I'm taking time off because I'm fragile, or broken, or stressed. I'm taking time off because I need it, and that is all that you need to know."

He's unconvinced, he can tell that it's more than that, matter of fact he can read from the look on her face that it is more than this. But Damon isn't going to push her to talk about something that she can't talk about, so he steps away from her, nods and moves to refill his glass.

"Do what you have to." he says simply, a moment later.

She exhales quietly, pausing. "How is he? Alaric?"

"I don't know. I've been avoiding him." Damon says flatly, filling up the glass. He drinks from it, eyes shut for a second. "I know you have to. You shouldn't, he deserves better than that from you."

"What about you?" Meredith asks, folding her arms as she walks closer. "Does he deserve better from you?"

From where Damon is standing a few feet in front of Meredith, he can observe her better, take in the smaller details. Her skin is paler, and the whites of her eyes are red, raw, like she hasn't had much sleep. She looks tired, just as Jeremy did, but it's not just the look in her eyes that tells him this, its her frame that is smaller too, her clothes are baggier than they were before.

"He doesn't deserve better from me, and he doesn't expect it. I'm just his jerk friend. Or ex-friend. I don't know what we are anymore, but you and Alaric, you were more than that. You can be more than that. He was your ex boyfriend. Or lover. Whatever you want to call it." Damon says, and sets the glass down. He turns to towards Meredith, and steps closer. "You don't have to give him or anyone else anymore than you can. You don't have to do anything that you can't do. Just focus on yourself, Meredith. He'll understand."

"Wait, what are you talking about, Damon? What happened? A minute ago, you said that Alaric deserves better from me. Now you're telling me he doesn't, and that I shouldn't worry about that."

"You shouldn't. And he's not worried, either. He knows you have your own stuff going on."

"I don't have my own stuff going on."

Damon sighs, disbelieving. "I know our path to a friendship was rocky, and it still is. We don't always get along, we disagree a lot, and I know you hated me at the start. Or kinda hated me. You probably still do. My point is, I might have put myself in this situation. I might have isolated myself from everyone, but I can still read people. I haven't seen you in a few weeks, but I can still read you. And you look like crap, Meredith. You look exhausted."

"I've been pulling late shifts-"

"It's okay to miss her. To talk about her." Damon says, cutting across her. It's difficult for him to say that, to admit it, since he never talks about her, and he tries not to allow himself to admit just how much he misses her.

Meredith shakes her head, wrapping her arms tighter around herself. "No, it's not that. It's not that at all, really. I don't want to talk about her, and I can't talk about her because I don't know what to say. I barely knew her, Damon. We were friends, but she wasn't the most important person in my life. We knew each other for a few weeks, and that's it. I'm not letting that get to me, I'm moving on because I'm not holding on to that anymore."

He sighs, stepping closer. "Meredith, you don't-"

"There are some things that I have to finish up at the hospital, before I take my break. Forms to sign. A few patients to check in on." Meredith says suddenly, and begins walking towards the door quickly. "I know that you hate Natasha, and I don't like her, but make sure you get her something to eat. And be careful, she's volatile to say the least."

Damon nods, not giving a verbal response because he doesn't have one, not one that she wants to hear, so he holds on to his words and watches as she leaves the house. He wants to stop her and tell her to take care of herself, to see Alaric, to not give up on Johanna, but Damon knows that it isn't his place to tell her what to do, or how to deal with the recent events, so he lets her go, hoping that she'll find a way to deal with it on her own.

There are several meals stored away in the fridge, and after inspecting all of them, Damon pulls out a tray of lasagna and cuts a small slice, heating it up in the oven and then setting it down on a clean plates. He carries the plate through the parlor, and up the set of stairs, towards the room that Natasha has been in for the past months. When Damon reaches the room he opens the door and steps inside, his eyes quickly settling on Natasha where she is leaning against a table, her palms flat on it. She looks up when she sees him, and stands up straighter.

"Is this a date, Damon?" she tilts her head to the side.

Natasha takes a step closer, away from the metal table in the center of the room. She walks past the brown armchair that's covered with a thin blanket, and looks up at Damon, before looking down at the plate in his hands.

"A knife?" she says, after noticing the knife and fork on the plate. "You're giving me a knife after I stabbed you?"

Damon notices how she almost seems amused, but ignores this, because if he thinks about it too much he'll want to react – and that won't end well. They need a cure to the Ripper Compound. So far, Natasha has only developed a momentary antidote of sorts. It dulls the symptoms, and eases the cravings, but they always come back. He needs more than that, he needs a cure so that Stefan won't have to fight, and Enzo won't continue to slip away in the cells, and so that when they find Johanna she'll have a cure.

"Shut up and eat." Damon walks towards her, shoving the plate into her hand. He turns to the silver table and looks over it. Books and papers are spread over the table, and there are small viles set up in stands covering one end.

"You can leave now." Natasha says, dragging the armchair to the table. She clears a space and sets the place down, about to eat. "Can I have a drink with that, too? I'm feeling parched, and I need to be fully hydrated to be able to work. I can't be expected to work in these conditions."

"These conditions?" Damon scoffs, glancing up. "Look at where you are. Look at the house you're living in. These conditions are excellent, you'll just use any excuse you can to complain. You find that cure, you can leave. You know the terms."

"Yes, Damon, I know the terms." she takes a bite into the lasagna, and sighs. "This is good. Who made this? I know you didn't do this. Your black heart couldn't make something this good. And your slow brain couldn't-"

"What didn't you understand about what I said? Shut up and eat."

"Mmm. Let me guess." she says, walking to where the empty glass is. Natasha walks up to Damon and puts it into his hand. "You still haven't found Johanna yet? That's a real shame. It really is."

"And why is that?" Damon asks, fingers gripping the bottom of the glass.

"Studying my parents notes on the Ripper Compound has given me a real understanding of how it works."

"Then why the hell haven't you made the correct antidote yet, if you have a real understanding of how it works?"

"I'm almost there, Damon. I'm almost there." Natasha stands, and moves towards the viles on the table, and for a moment there's no arrogance, or bitterness in her voice. There's almost enthusiasm, and a thirst for knowledge, discovery. "What I've been giving you, the dosage, it's too small. You're on a temporary cure. The content – The formula isn't right, and I'm there, Damon. I'm almost at the right formula. I know I just need to tweak it, just a little, and then it will be right."

"What do you need? To get it to that final stage?"

"I need to test it on you, again. It's risky, and the effects could react badly with what you were already injected with, but-"

"If it works, then it's worth the risk." Damon says, setting the glass down on the table. He steps towards Natasha, peering down at her as he extends his arm to her. "If you're putting anything in me that isn't a potential antidote, I'm rip your head off with my teeth."

"You say that every time, Damon." she replies, injecting a small vile of a clear formula into a needle. "And every time I remind you that you compelled me to only create an antidote to the Ripper Compound. I physically can't do anything but that."

"And every time you expect me to have sympathy for you." he looks down at her. "Can we get this over with? I have work to do, and so do you."

Natasha turns to him with the needle in her hand, and she rolls up his sleeve, pressing it into his skin and watching as the light contents disappear into his bloodstream. She keeps the needle in his arm until the possible antidote is injected in him, and then she removed it, setting it down on the table. He feels nothing.

"I thought this supposed to almost work?"

"You don't feel different?"

"No, I'm the same." Damon shakes his head. "I feel nothing. No changes."

She observes him, leaning in closer to inspect his face as the dark veins begin to appear – they spread all over his face, as they have done since he's been infected with the virus, and Damon can tell from the look on Natasha's face that his eyes are still red.

"Maybe it's you."

"What?!" Damon frowns, confused and a little irritated. "What does that mean?"

"We should test on someone else."

"No. That's out of the question."

"Okay, just think about this for one second: You were the first to be infected with the Ripper Compound. You got the full dose, the strong dose. Through the needle, into you. That's direct. Everyone else who was infected got it from you. Your brother, Johanna, and Enzo were all bitten from you. It was direct. It was spread from you, it was second hand. Maybe the levels in you are too strong. Maybe the dosage is too strong to fight off in you. We need to test it on someone else. We need to do it, Damon. I need to know."

"No, that's out of the question. You're not testing on my brother-"

"You said it was worth the risk. If it works, it's worth the risk. So take that risk, and bring your brother in here. You have to admit that I'm right. You might hate me, and want to kill me, but you know we need to try it on him, and probably Enzo. I've been saying that for weeks." Natasha answers, returning to her meal. "And as much as I enjoy having this one on one time, with you as my little vampire test subject, I think we need to expand. See other people. Try other things."

Damon speeds forward and grabs Natasha by the throat, slamming her back against the bookshelf. He holds her there as an anger surges through his body, and it's not an anger at her, but at her words and what they triggered. _Little vampire test subject. _It reminds him of the Institution, and the Rosenbergs, and he hates those reminders, he hates them so much because thinking of all of that is enough to push him to a point that he know he won't return from.

"You screw this up, you do something wrong and get my brother or Enzo sick-"

"You'll tear my head off with your teeth? Yeah, I got that from before, Damon. You don't have to remind me." she holds his gaze, unwavering. "I want out of this. I want to get out of here, so you can believe me when I say that I'm working to get a cure as fast as I can. I don't want to spend another month here."

His fingers unwrap from around her throat and Damon steps back, watching as Natasha's hands move to rub the area where the skin is beginning to bruise. It reminds him of the times he'd hurt Johanna, when he'd bruised her, or staked her at the Gilbert house, but Damon quickly shuts those memories down and backs away.

"You better eat that before it gets cold."

Natasha continues to watch him. "It's not so bad cold."

Damon ignores this as he looks over the room, inspecting it briefly. He wants to make sure that everything is as it should be, as it was when he was last in here, and it is. When he looks back at Natasha, much to his irritation, he finds her watching him while eating.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was just wondering, what's the next part of your plan?"

"My plan for what?" he folds his arms. "And why do you care?"

"What if this doesn't work out?" Natasha asks, stopping briefly to swallow some lasagna. "What's the next part of your plan if this doesn't work out? Your body could reject the cure to the Ripper Compound. What if it works for everyone else, but not you?"

"What if it's not working on me because you don't have it right?" Damon snaps back. "You said it yourself, you need more time to work on this. So keep working on it, and when you finally get it right then you can leave."

"I don't know where he is." Natasha says suddenly. "Max. We had a brief deal, to find you, and Johanna. But I'm not holding on to that right now."

"You're a bad liar."

Natasha rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed. "I haven't had contact with him since then. That was months ago, Damon, and I don't want revenge anymore. I want to get out of this house, out of this room. I want to get away from you."

"I'm not that hard to look at." Damon retorts, arms still folded over his chest.

She smiles, setting her hand on her chin as she eyes Damon off. "You are, actually. I wouldn't mind if the cute one came in every now and then."

"The cute one?"

"Yeah, the new one."

Damon rolls his eyes now, and glances away for a moment. "Stay away from Alaric."

"I will, because I can't actually leave this room."

"What do you want from me? Do you want me to feel bad for you, being stuck in here? Because I don't. You captured Meredith, you threatened her. You had Cedric too, and you hurt him. I don't feel bad for you, because I know what you would have done to me if your plans had worked out." Damon answers, stepping closer to her. "I don't believe that you've suddenly let go of your need for revenge. You were so determined on getting revenge for the people who killed your parents, and I don't believe that's just gone now. It doesn't work like that."

"We're not the same. We don't have the same reactions. You can't tell me what I'm feeling, or what I want, based on what you think you know of me. A perception." Natasha says, holding his gaze. "I don't want revenge now, I meant it when I said that. Three months has given me clarity, and I just want to get as far away from all of you as I possibly can. That's what I want. That's why I'm doing this, not for you, not for your brother, or that poor soul Enzo. I'm not doing it for Johanna, either. I'm doing this for me, so that I can get out of here and away from you all.

Damon holds her gaze for a moment, it's cold and unwavering. "You find a cure for the Ripper virus, and you cure all of us, and then you'll get that. You'll be free to go wherever you want, but when that day comes you better stick to that. You better stick to your plan to go as far away as possible, because once you leave that's it. That's your last chance. If I ever see you again after that day, if you ever hurt another vampire, I'll find you and I'll kill you."

He remains in the room for another moment, watching as Natasha glances away. She looks back eventually and nods, indicating that she accepts this, she accepts his terms, and with that Damon leaves the room without looking back – he's got more important things to do than talk to her. However, before Damon disappears completely he hears Natasha calls out, so he stops and turns around to face her again. His eyes settle on her, where she's sitting in the small wooden armchair.

"Did they suffer?"

Damon considers this for a moment, his memory returning to those two separate events, and eventually he looks up at her. He considers entering the room again, but remains outside it, outside of the barrier.

"They bled to death. Both of them." he answers finally, honestly. "It would have been quick. Painless. After the initial..Pain, the shock, they wouldn't feel it. Not that your father didn't deserve it, for what he did, the pain that he willingly inflicted. He deserved a worse death than he got. They both deserved worse than they got, they should've suffered more."

A silence fills the air, and when Damon looks up again he discovers that Natasha is still watching him. He casts one more brief look her way, before turning into the corridor and following the familiar path back to his bedroom, where he will go back to obsessing and looking over the maps, evidences, and pictures on the walls.

* * *

><p>"Stefan? Stefan, did you hear anything I just said?"<p>

The thoughts and memories that had been moving through Stefan's mind disappear for now, and he looks up from where he sits at the bar, glancing across it to find Alaric with a slightly annoyed look on his face. Stefan stands up from the bar, clearing his throat.

"Uh, yeah, I did. And I think that's a great-"

"Just stop. You didn't listen." Alaric sighs, turning his back to Stefan. He retreats back into the office, and Stefan follows, leaving behind the crowds and voices in the room.

It's the middle of the day and the Grill is busy with customers and conversations that Stefan just doesn't care for. He passes Matt on his way back behind the bar, and almost stops him, almost says something, but Matt seems busy, with a tray to pick up dishes in one hand, and a determined look on his face. When Stefan reaches the office he steps inside and finds Alaric near a small, old bookshelf. He picks up the bottle of whiskey from it and grabs an empty glass, not offering Stefan one as he fills the glass and swallows the contents whole.

"I wasn't ignoring you, Alaric. I was just-"

"Ignoring what I was saying, because you were off somewhere else." Alaric fills the glass again, and then drinks from it. "I wish I could have that. I wish I could just drift off somewhere else, but my mind won't let me. You're lucky."

"I wouldn't say that." Stefan shuts the door behind him, then turns back to Alaric. "You want to talk about it? Something's..Bothering you."

"Nothing new is bothering me, Stefan." Alaric moves to sit in the chair behind the desk, running his hands over his face. He glances up a minute later. "Nothing new is bothering me. It's been the same thing for the past three months, and it's going to keep bothering me until it is resolved. And if it's never resolved, if we can't find my sister, then it will bother me for eternity. Because, lucky me, that's what I get. Eternity."

Stefan releases a sigh and steps forward, sitting down in the nearest chair, on the other side of the desk. He sits down directly opposite Alaric.

"Just save it, Stefan. I need to – Work on stuff. In here."

"You don't have to do that. If you need a break-"

"If I need a break I can't take one, because when Robert died he left this place to Matt. But there is no way that a teenager can manage the Grill, and there aren't any other possible options. You can't do it, not with what you're dealing with. Damon can't do it. No one else can do it right now, but me. It's not exactly what I pictured I'd be doing when I came back from the dead. All of this, it's not how I thought it would be. I can't deal with that right now, I have work to do, so just forget what I said out there."

"Are you sure?"

"It wasn't important." Alaric says, beginning to look through the files on his desk.

After watching him for a minute, Stefan stands from the chair and leaves the room, his eyes briefly wandering back inside the room before the door shuts. He catches one last look at a stressed out Alaric, before he looks away. From the corner of his eye he sees Matt step outside of the Grill through the side door, and Stefan decides, on instinct, to follow him and make sure that he's okay. He walks through the crowds and tables unnoticed, his mind now deciding to remind him of the occasions that he'd been here with Johanna – When she played pool with Jeremy and Damon, and the entire group had been there, or when she'd needed his help in the bathroom.

Stefan is relieved when he steps outside of the Grill, because for a moment he can gather his thoughts, and not remember those moments with Johanna inside the grill. He discovers Matt leaning against the wall, and when Matt realizes Stefan is here he straightens up, turning towards him directly.

"I just needed some air." Matt says flatly, frowning. "Why did you follow me out here?"

"I didn't follow you, I was talking with Alaric and I decided to come out here."

"Alright." he replies. "How is he?"

"He's okay." Stefan answers, hesitant. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Stefan. I just needed a break from in there, and I haven't had my break yet. It's not that busy, okay? They'll manage without me."

"I don't care about the people in there, Matt. I didn't come out here for that. I care about you, and I'm just.. I don't know, I guess I'm checking if you're okay."

"I'm fine, okay? I've had plenty of scans and tests, I'm fine. I haven't had a seizure since that day, if that's what you're wondering."

"That's no it. No, it wasn't just that."

"I don't want to talk about Johanna, or any of that stuff. I really don't, Stefan. I'm fine."

"I don't know that you are."

"Why don't you get it? There's nothing left for me to say about that. I've said it all. There's nothing left to say or do. Johanna is still gone," Matt says, pausing as he takes a step closer. "She's out there killing so many people. They think she's a serial killer. She might still be alive, and she might come back to us, but she's gone, Stefan. She's not the person we knew, she's never gonna be that person."

"You don't mean that."

"I do, actually. Maybe we were wrong this whole time, maybe we only saw the version of her that we wanted to see. The version of Johanna that she wanted us to see. Maybe it wasn't real. We all lied to her, maybe she lied too."

"I don't think that's true, Matt. I don't think she lied to us, not that deeply. We saw who she was. She was kind, brave and loyal. And so selfless." Stefan says quietly. "Whoever she is now, whatever she's become, that's not her. That's what we did to her. I accept that, and I know what I'm guilty of. That's why I can't accept what you just said, that she's never going to be the person she really is. That this is who she is, because it's not."

"I said I didn't want to talk about this, and I meant that. I really don't. We won't agree on this, and honestly I don't care. I just needed some space, alright? I still do. I don't want to talk about Johanna."

"Fine, we don't have to talk about Johanna."

"Who do you want to talk about?" Matt looks up again, a frown set on his forehead. "Jeremy? Talk to him yourself. And if you want to talk about Elena, or Bonnie, or Tyler, go talk to them. I told you that I was done. Why don't you get that?"

"You don't have to push everyone else away, Matt. Doing that won't help anything."

"Maybe." he answers, walking towards the door and re-entering the Grill.

Stefan looks away with a small sigh, shaking his head slightly. He turns towards the stairs that lead up on the street and follows them up, eyes skimming the town in front of him briefly, until his eyes settle upon a familiar figure. _Johanna. _She's only a few feet away from him, but there's something strange about her, something different. She doesn't look real, she looks faded, almost translucent – like a ghost, or a memory. A memory.

_"You won't remember everything - only fragments."_

Suddenly, Johanna's not standing so far away from him. She's closer, but she's covered in blood now. His blood. Stefan's hand instinctively reaches for the healed patch of skin on his neck where the wound that Johanna inflicted on him months ago should be. He doesn't feel the memory of the wound, or the fresh blood, because this isn't real. It's a memory of what happened, so long ago. The vision of Johanna flickers in front of his eyes, like a fading hologram.

"_Why do you think I'm here? There's no going back Stefan."_

His eyes shut as he tries to recall memories, or fragments, anything that will help him to find her, anything that will help him to remember where she was, where he left her. Stefan finds nothing, he can remember nothing clearly, and when his eyes open she's gone again and he's left standing alone, empty.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the late update, I've been super busy... Anyway, this chapter had a heavy focus on the Salvatore brothers and I hope you enjoyed that. And yes, there's been a very big time jump from the last chapter to this one. I hope you'll like it. They still haven't found Johanna yet, but they're close. So..Let me know what you think.**

Thank you twin of a sister and Adela for your reviews:

**Adela:** You're welcome! I'm glad you liked the chapter. You're right, Damon should spend time with Ric but he's been very busy right now. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

x


	6. Almost Cured

**Disclaimer: I own nothing and claim nothing. Vampires Diaries is copyright to its respective owners. Nothing is being claimed and no money is being made.**

* * *

><p>A fading, yellow glow lights up the forest as Cedric walks through it, enjoying the sensations as his bare feet dig into the soft dirt. There is a silence around him, with the exception of his heavy breathing, but that fades away and all is silent, and it is the kind of silence that can't be broken – the kind of silence that amplifies beauty. He steps over a fallen log and feels a twinge in the bottom of his foot, along with a sticky sensation, and without looking he knows that he's cut himself on a rock on his journey here, but he doesn't stop to look. Cedric doesn't care about his injury, it's small, it doesn't matter, it is nothing compared to this nature, this freedrom.<p>

There is a small smile on his lips for a moment, it disappears, and then a larger one graces his skin, lighting up his pale skin. He lets out a laugh, it is silent, and almost muted, but he can express his joy and his disbelief through it. He shouldn't be here, he should be back in town because Meredith said she would return to him after visiting Damon, but he couldn't wait. Cedric couldn't remain in that house any longer, he couldn't stay confined by those walls when his heart, body and soul were seeking this. _Freedom._

It's not freedom, not in it's complete form, and it's not enough for him, but it's almost freedom and that's enough for now. That's all that he needs now, in this moment. His body was aching for it, aching for an escape that Meredith wouldn't allow him, because she was worried about his body. Cedric stops walking and allows himself to take another minute to take in his surroundings. He has been here before, in this forest, and he finds the familiarity comforting but saddening at the same time. He was not like this when he was last here, he was not human.

The familiar feeling of despair begins to rise in his stomach, and he slowly feels his palms begin to sweat as he remembers that he is human. There's a moment each morning when he wakes up when he truly forgets. He believes that he is still a Hybrid, and for a fleeting second he's at peace, and then remembers that he's not a Hybrid anymore, and that he was forced to consume a cure that was killing Katherine, a cure that could kill him.

The signs are not there, not yet anyway. He has his days where he is tired and weaker, where his bones feel their age, and his back aches from falling, but he hasn't declined rapidly, not as Meredith described Katherine's decline. This is both comforting and worrying; he is comforted by the fact that he has not declined like she did in days, and it has been months, and he is worried by this because he has to wonder if that time will come, if it is coming his way already.

Without having to think about it, Cedric's feet begin to move and lead him out of the deep forest that he'd ventured into. He stops when he notices a familiar path, and at first his mind doesn't realize where it is familiar from, and then he does and he finds himself running the path. Cedric breaks out into a run, and soon he's moving so fast that his surroundings become blurred images, and he can actually feel droplets of sweat breaking out on his skin, trailing down his back and face.

When the lake-house comes into his vision a smile spreads on his face, and he runs towards it, stopping only a few feet away from the house when a figure steps out. A light haired man, and he recognizes him but can't pick from where.

"You're Cedric, right?" he calls out. "You don't remember me? I'm Sam."

Memories from the night the veil went down return, and he vaguely remembers fighting beside a man named Sam at one point, and then it comes back entirely and he shakes his head, moving towards the stairs – He doesn't want to walk up them, he wants to lean against the railing. Cedric overestimated his capability, and his physical strength since becoming human, and he is already beginning to feel it in his body.

"I thought – What are you doing here?" Sam asks.

The door shuts behind Sam, who is dressed in a tight green shirt and brown pants. His hair is darker and a little longer, and he has some stubble growing in on his face. He steps closer, and Cedric is finally able to see his face clearly; There is a dark bruise running down the left side of Sam's face, curving up underneath his eye, and it runs beside a long, jagged cut. The wounds look fresh, and painful, but Cedric doesn't focus on them and returns his attention to their current situation.

"They think you're dead. Do you know that? They actually think you're dead. What are you doing here?"

"I just – I need to sit."

"Are you hurt?" Sam frowns, walking towards the stairs.

Cedric shakes his head and releases the railing, moving to sit down on the top step, his eyes flickering out to the vast land before them. He hears movement behind him, the sound of the door closing and then opening again a moment later. Sam appears beside him, with a glass of water in his hand. He sits down and offers the glass to Cedric, who takes it and lifts it to his lips, enjoying the fresh and cool feeling that the water provides.

"Are you going to answer what I said?" Sam looks up.

"I don't know why I came here, I just started walking.."

"You walked all the way from Mystic Falls?"

"No, I drove a little bit."

"And ran the rest of the way?" he asks.

"And ran the rest." Cedric says quietly.

"No wonder you look like shit." Sam mutters, running his hands over his face. He sighs and looks back down at Cedric. "So what's the go? You're meant to be dead."

Cedric shakes his head, catching his breath. "You can't tell anyone I was here."

"No, I can and I will if I want to. Give me a reason not to." he replies firmly. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't tell them the truth. They think you died. Jeremy thinks you're dead, they all do. So give me a reason, and I'll consider it."

"I shouldn't – I shouldn't have come here, I just needed to escape. I needed to get out. I've been trapped in that room for too long. That house. I needed this. I needed an escape."

"From what?"

With shaking hands, Cedric sets the glass down and lifts his hands to his face. He runs his fingers through his long, knotted hair, before resting his elbows on his knees. His body has calmed down from the long walk and run, but he still feels the adrenaline pumping through him, and he prefers that to the pain. It's worth the pain, to feel that.

"Your bleeding." Sam points out, noticing the blood on the stairs. "Come inside."

When he stands, Sam stretches out his hand and offers it to Cedric, who clutches on to his upper-arm and allows him to help him up. They walk into the lake-house slowly, the door swinging shut behind them. Cedric's eyes skim over the inside of the house, before he walks to the small circular table and sits down.

"Be quiet." Sam says, before walking towards the kitchen. "Martin's upstairs sleeping."

Cedric nods and gives no response, instead he lifts his foot up and peers down at the wound. It's a pretty long, and surprisingly deep, cut on the bottom of his foot that curves up into his heel, but it doesn't really hurt. He's felt worse, this feels like nothing. The inside of the lake-house is silent and still, and very clean. There are only a few stray items out of place on the inside, and that includes a black jacket over the back of one of the couches, a blanket, an empty glass on the sink and a plate with an untouched sandwich on it.

"So," Sam returns to the table, with a small cloth and a box of bandages. He sets them down and then sits down across from Cedric, dragging his chair closer. "Are you going to answer my question or am I going to have to call Jeremy?"

"You have no right. This isn't your business."

"You showed up here, so you just made it my business."

"What are you doing here? This place – I thought it'd be empty. How long have you been here?"

"Three months. Just over three months." Sam says, nodding towards Cedric's foot, indicating that he should lift it up. He leans in to inspect the wound, before reaching for the small white cloth and wringing it out.

"Why?" Cedric asks.

Sam begins to wipe the blood and dirt out of the cut. "The Salvatore place was crowded." he says flatly, hesitating. "No, we just – We weren't welcome there. We didn't feel it, I think Martin needed an escape. So, I just answered your question. It's your turn now."

"They can't know I'm alive because it's not safe." he says quietly, hesitating. "I was a Hybrid, but I'm not anymore. It's complicated, but they can't know. I'm doing it to protect them."

"So you've been hiding out in Mystic Falls for three months? How did that work?"

"I have a good hiding place." Cedric says, glancing up again.

"Alright." Sam answers finally, finished with wiping up the blood. He begins to cover the wound with a long bandage. "I knew already. That you took the cure, that you were forced to take it. They think you died from that."

"And they need to keep believing that, because right now they're safer believing that."

"I won't tell anyone." he says, finished with tending to the wound. Sam sets cloth and unused bandages down on the table, and looks up again. "You can stay here for a little longer, if you want. No one comes out here, not without calling first."

"I won't be here for long."

"Up to you." Sam says simply, standing up. "It's nice outside, this time of day. Come on."

Cedric follows silently a moment later, his bones not aching as much as he thought that they'd would. He steps outside of the door, and follows Sam, who leads him down to a part of the porch that is overlooking the lake. There are many seats out here, and Sam ends up sitting on a large lounge, Cedric joins him there.

"You knew Johanna?" Sam asks, without looking up. His eyes are settled out on their surroundings, somewhere in the distance.

"Briefly." he answers, stretching back against the couch.

The cushions are thick and comfortable, and Cedric's back begins to feel a little better from them. He sighs quietly once he's reclined back, and glances up to Sam, who he discovers is still staring off somewhere faraway.

"You?"

"Briefly." Sam responds, dragging his eyes away from the land, and back to Cedric. "When we were younger. It was a long time ago. We fell out of contact, and I never made the effort..That's one of my regrets. Not doing something sooner. Not putting in the effort."

"We all have that regret, not just you." Cedric answers, looking away.

"Do you need a lift back, to wherever it is you're staying?"

A thought begins to form in Cedric's head, and for a moment he considers it, and he almost decides not to – but something stirs inside of him, inside of his chest, and he decides that he can't fight this thought. He has to do this, it's been far too long. This is something that he needs to do, it's something that he has to do for him.

"Can you take me to the Salvatore's Boarding House?"

There's a flash of a frown on Sam's features, and he takes a minute to answer. "What happened to keeping them safe by keeping the truth from them?"

"It's not about them, it's about him. Enzo."

"The vampire in the cells?"

"Yes. Will you take me there? Will you take me to him?"

Sam hesitates, an uncomfortable look appearing on his face. "You can't enter that house without Damon knowing that you're there. I don't think-"

"He knows. Damon knows." Cedric says quickly. "Damon knows, and he won't mind. He might be pissed that I'm risking someone else learning, and maybe it is a risk, but I have to do this. I have to see Enzo. Please, Sam. I need to do this."

"Don't." Sam says, shaking his head. "Don't look at me like that, like I owe you something because you knew Johanna."

"That's – No, that's not what I'm doing."

"I don't owe you anything. Or anyone else. Is that clear?"

Cedric nods, watching Sam closely. "I know that, but I'm not asking for much. Am I? Just a lift into town, to the Boarding House."

"And then after that? Where will you go after that?"

"I'll get there on my own."

There's a silence between the two of them as Sam stands from the couch, running his hands over his face. He nods briefly, sparing a look Cedric's way before he begins walking back to the house.

"Let me get my keys."

A few minutes later Sam returns outside with his keys, and a helmet. He passes the helmet to Cedric and walks down to where he parked his motorbike. Sam climbs on first, and then Sam gets on the back, setting his hands on the younger man's waist. The engine starts up and Sam pulls the bike out on to the path, turning it in the direction of the path that will lead them out on to the main road.

The journey to the Salvatore House is a little rocky at times, and Cedric finds himself holding on to Sam a little tighter at times, but it is mostly a smooth journey, and for a few brief moments Cedric allows himself to enjoy this feeling – this feeling of almost being weightless. Almost being free again. It's so close, but it's not close enough, it's not attainable yet. It may never be in his reach, and even if he were to grasp for freedom Cedric knows very well he may never get it, but the possibility of it is so refreshing.

When the arrive at the Boarding House, Sam directs the bike down the driveway but doesn't park it there, and ends up driving it down a little deeper into the woods. He parks the bike near the side of the house and climbs off, turning to Cedric as he removes the helmet from his head.

"It's safer here." Sam explains. "We can go in through the back."

"You don't have to come inside."

"I want to, but I won't come down to the cells. I'll wait inside, and keep a look out."

Cedric falls into place beside Sam, and the two begin walking around to the back of the house. He looks over the land briefly, before looking at Sam.

"Thank you for doing this."

Sam shrugs, putting his hands into the pockets of his black jacket. "It's nothing."

Another silence falls between them, and Sam eventually leads the way inside, indicating that Cedric waits behind him while he checks that the corridor is clear. He returns outside a moment later and leads Cedric inside, through the house, deep down into the parlour. When they reach it, Cedric leaves Sam in the parlour and makes his away down towards the cells. The cells are quiet and still when Cedric ventures down into them, he listens carefully, hoping to learn which celll that Enzo is inside without having to look through all of them. He doesn't hear much, so he starts by checking the first few cells, and eventually he looks inside a cell that isn't empty.

Enzo is lying on a bed facing a wall, with a blanket messily draped over him. The room is dull and flat, and there are old stains of dried blood on the dark floors and walls. Cedric watches Enzo's still, resting figure for a minute, before he reaches for the door to the cell and he opens it. He is careful to shut the door after him, remembering that Enzo is still influenced by the Ripper virus that Damon spread to him.

The sound of the door shutting isn't enough to stir Enzo, or catch his attention, and he continues to rest, his back to the door. From where he stands, Cedric is incapable of determining whether Enzo is sleeping or not, but he doesn't need to because a moment later he hears Enzo's voice – it's quiet and broken.

"What do you want, Damon?"

He sounds deflated, like he has nothing left inside of him.

_"It's me."_

The words mean nothing to Enzo, apparently, because he doesn't answer and he makes no movements to turn around or get up, instead he continues to rest on the bed. Cedric sighs and steps towards the bed slowly, his body aches when he lower his body on the edge of the bed so that he can sit beside Enzo.

"It's Cedric."

This apparently catches Enzo's attention, because his body twitches slightly at the name, a reflex or a shock maybe, and then Enzo looks over his shoulder slowly – his eyes are dimmed, and his cheeks are hollow. There's no life left in his face at all, there's nothing left in his eyes, until he sees Cedric and something almost sparks back. Something almost returns.

Enzo wears a look of disbelief on his face, and it remains as he quickly sits upright, moving into the corner behind him. His back hits the wall and he stares opened mouthed at Cedric, until the wounds start spilling out.

"Stop. Stop – You were here before. You didn't do anything." Enzo snaps angrily, but his words shake so much, just like his hands as he presses them to his face for a moment. "You didn't do anything. You were here, and then you left. Stop coming. I don't want you here anymore. I don't want to see you anymore. Why are you here?!"

"Enzo," Cedric reaches out, trying to comfort his friend, but his hand is knocked away. "It's real. I'm here, I swear to you."

"You weren't here. You're not here. Why do you keep coming back?" Enzo shouts, hitting the wall angrily. "Why do you come, and do nothing?!"

When Cedric reaches out this time, to place a reassuring hand on his friends arm, Enzo isn't fast enough to knock his hand away, and by the time that he realizes what happened it all changes. Cedric can see the look in Enzo's eyes change, the expression on his face drops, and it becomes real because of the touch. It's there, it's real because Enzo can actually feel it.

His eyes drag up to meet Cedric's, and he frowns, almost speechless.

"You – You're-"

Cedric nods quickly, throat tightening. "I'm here. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. I'm sorry. You shouldn't – You shouldn't be like this. In here."

Enzo's eyes begin to water, and his bottom lip almost quivers. He shakes his head, a flash of anger darting across his face as he tries to break away, but Cedric won't let him. He just keeps his hold on him, holding Enzo's gaze, because the physical contact, and holding his gaze, seems to be the thing that reminds Enzo that this is real and not just in his head.

"Enzo, I'm here right now. I'm real." he leans in closer, tightening his grip on his friend's shoulder. "It's okay. I'm here."

"You're – I thought you were dead. You were -"

"I'm not supposed to be here, and I'll have to go soon-"

"Don't leave me here." Enzo sits up straighter, his hands moving to rest on Cedric's shoulders. He clings on to him, a desperation filling his eyes. "You can't leave me here. You can get me out, can't you? I can't – I need to get out, Cedric. I've been here for so long. For decades."

Cedric hesitates, a small concern filling him. "Do you know where you are, Enzo?"

"I know. I know where I am, and where I'm not. I'm talking about walls. Walls. I've been surrounded by them for so very long." Enzo holds on tighter, his fingers trembling slightly. "Please, don't make me stay here. Don't leave me."

"I won't leave you. I'll find a way to get you out of here." Cedric promises. "I need some time, but I will find a way."

Enzo doesn't allow any emotions to cross his face at first, and then he finally does, and there's a small flicker of belief in his eyes, like he believes Cedric's words, believes in his friend to find a way.

"I won't leave you to this. I just need time to get you out."

* * *

><p>The sky is calm and almost soothing, as Damon ventures outside, a glass of bourbon in his hand. He walks towards the stairs and sits down on the top step, gazing out at the vast land in front of him. Behind him he hears Sam, and he fights the urge to roll his eyes.<p>

"You can join me while Cedric's with Enzo."

Sam walks to where Damon is sitting, and eventually joins him. He sits down next to Damon and releases a sigh. "How'd you know he was down there?"

"This is my house, I know everything that goes on in here."

"Apparently not. You still don't know who killed Katherine."

"Apart from that, I know everything."

"I don't think you do." Sam says, briefly glancing at him.

"Is that so?" Damon looks up, almost amused. "Why do you think that?"

"I think you pretend like you know it all, because it makes you feel better about yourself, about everything that's going on. But in reality, I think you know you have no idea about half the shit going on in this house, and in this town, and that scares the hell out of you."

Damon's lips curve into a small smile and he nods, sipping on his drink. "Maybe you're right. You make a good point. I do like to know it all."

"Never thought you'd admit that."

"Why's that?"

Sam shrugs, and rests his elbows on his knees. "Because you're a dick."

"Mm. That's right. You got that right at least." he swallows some more bourbon, eyes settled on the distance. "How'd you find Cedric?"

"He found me."

"So you don't know where he's staying?"

He shakes his head. "No, he wouldn't say where he was staying. He just said he'd been stuck inside for months. I felt bad for him, I'd hate that."

"I'm going to have to compel you to forget." Damon says simply, finally meeting Sam's light gaze. "It's too dangerous. You can't know, it's too much of a risk. So I'm going to have to compel you to forget."

"Silas is dead, Damon. He's not going to read my thoughts. No one can get inside my head, Cedric's secret will be safe with me. It is safe with me."

"As a precaution, I'm going to have to compel you."

Sam seems to take a moment to consider this, and he eventually nods in agreement, glancing up at Damon. His cheeks are less full, making his cheekbones look slimmer, tighter. His hair is darker than it was, and its slicked back off his face, with only a few messy strands falling out of place. He has the beginning of stubble over his face, and one one side of his face there is a long, dark bruise, and a jagged, raw cut.

"I know." Sam finally answers, now looking back out the yard. "Just wait until after. When we're done talking, okay?"

"Fine with me." Damon answers flatly, sipping on his drink. "How's Martin?"

"Sober. He's doing better, but he has his days."

"What are those days like?"

"You know. You witnessed one of them, before we moved out. He's..Depressed. Struggling. He gets angry, and then he gets sad. And then he's just quiet for hours." Sam says quietly, speaking the words like he's said them before, like he knows Martin so well that he knows his symptoms and his struggles like the back of his palm. "He needs his children back, but he doesn't know how to do that. He doesn't know how to fight for them anymore, so he's not focusing on that. He runs a lot. Exercises. Push-ups. He wants to get himself in better form, like that's possible. The man is a beast."

"That sounds odd, coming from the beast."

"If I don't kill, I don't become it. So I'm not a beast."

"What about you?" he asks.

"What about me?" Sam looks up.

Damon throws him a knowing look. "You were sick. You are sick. Your illness.."

"It's not your concern, really. I deal with it."

"How is it today? You high as a kite today on some pills, or something a little harder?"

"Just pills today."

"Those things will kill you mixed with alcohol. Do you still become the werewolf if you kill yourself?" Damon asks. "I never thought about it like that. I mean, technically if you did that you'd be taking your own life, you'd still be taking a life, so you should become a werewolf. Right?"

"I didn't come here to talk to you. I came here because Cedric needed a lift. Can you get him back to where he needs to go?"

"Sure, but before you go running off we need to talk."

"About what?" Sam looks back slowly. "What do we need to talk about?"

"Alaric and Martin. Two very stubborn Saltzmans."

"I'm not convincing Martin to visit Alaric."

Damon sighs. "How do you know I was going to ask that?"

"Call it intuition."

"I don't care what you call it. Alaric needs to see Martin. He's been avoiding him, it's been a long time since they saw each other. They need to talk, they need to sort it out."

"I'm not going to convince Martin to do something that he's not ready to do."

"Why isn't he ready? It's as good a time as any right now to do something. You said it yourself, Martin wants to fight for his children. He just doesn't know how. This is how he can do it, Sam. This is how he can fight. He can start with Alaric."

"Martin is feeling low and guilty, and there isn't anything anyone else can do to bring him out of this. He needs to do it himself. He's not going to go see Alaric yet, because he can't. So unless you somehow force Alaric to talk to Martin at the lake-house, then I can't see any resolution anytime soon."

"Do you think I could do that?" Damon asks a moment later. "Somehow get Alaric there, at the lake-house. Get them talking.. Do you think that'd work?"

"I think that's the only way they're going to talk. Martin can't.." Sam pauses briefly, running his hands over his jaw. "Martin isn't in a good place. He's hating himself, for what he hasn't been able to do for his children, and this self-hatred is clouding his thoughts on everything. It's making him believe that his own son hates him."

"Alaric doesn't hate him."

"Martin doesn't see it that way."

"Then how does he see it?" Damon asks.

Sam continues to stare out at the land, his fingers clasped together now. "The way he sees it is complicated. It's personal."

"I won't repeat it to another soul. Cross my heart and hope to die." he motions like he's crossing his heart, then drinks from the bourbon.

"Alaric was dead for a long time. Max was..Wild, and broken. And Johanna, he lost track of her, and when he finally found her she wasn't the same. He let them all down. He feels like he's let all of his children down, and now he doesn't know what to do to avoid further pain on their end."

"Avoiding them isn't going to end the pain, or avoid more pain. It's just causing everyone involved more pain." Damon says finally, finishing off his drink. "I'll try to think of a way to get Alaric down to the lake-house. In the meantime, make sure Martin stays there."

"Alright." Sam nods, standing up slowly. "Make sure Cedric gets back safely."

"Why do you care about him?" Damon follows his movements, and stands up.

"Just do it, Damon." he says, walking away from him. "If there's any more news on Johanna, let me know and I'll pass it on to Martin."

"Fine."

After watching Sam's fading figure disappear from his vision, Damon turns away and returns inside, his feet guiding him down corridors and into the parlor. He returns the empty glass to where it belongs and starts walking down in the direction of the cells, but he stops as his ears pick up the sound of Enzo's muffled crying. Damon clenches his jaw tightly together, his eyes settled on a spot on the carpet as the noises grow louder. He turns away from the direction of the cells, and tries to ignore the cries, but he can't, and soon Damon finds himself walking outside – in the distance he sees a car driving towards the house, and when he recognizes it as Stefan's car he turns back inside and pours himself a bigger drink.

When Stefan finally reaches the house, Damon is sitting in the parlor drinking bourbon, while his mind races with thoughts of what to do with Cedric. It is at that point that Damon remembers that he didn't compel Sam to forget this situation with Cedric, and he curses silently, standing up from the couch.

"I sure know how to clear a room."

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not leaving because of you. You're not that special." Damon says quickly, walking to the door. "I'm leaving because I forgot to do something, and it could come back to bite me in the ass later."

"Who is that? Is that Enzo, crying?" Stefan steps forward, blocking his brother's path. "What did you do? Damon, he's been through enough. Hasn't he?"

"What did I do? What the hell does that mean?"

"He's crying-"

"He does that some times. Being locked up in another box is probably very traumatic for him, and seeing as we don't have a cure, it looks like he's stuck there a little longer. He cried at the Institution sometimes, so this isn't new." Damon says flatly, meeting his brother's gaze. "While we're on the topic of this not yet created cure, Natasha had a proposition. I said no, because I think it's stupid, but I thought I might as well ask."

Stefan tilts his head to the side. "What is it?"

"Natasha said that she was close, and she tried out one of her new batches on me, but I'm still a Ripper. Nothing changed. She has this crazy theory that because I received the direct dose, the cure might not work on me as well as it would work on you, and Enzo, and..." Damon trails off briefly. "The point is, she thinks that because I received the direct form, I might be slightly immune to an antidote. But you received a bite from someone who was bitten. You didn't get it directly, and you didn't get it from me, which means that the cure might work faster on you. You might have more results than I have, but I said it was too risky-"

"I'll do it."

A frown begins to form on Damon's face as he watches his brother, who walks down towards the decanters and pours himself a glass. He picks it up and swallows the contents whole, before setting it back and turning around to face him.

"Alright, I'm ready."

"Wait, what do you mean you're ready? One drink and you're ready to go get injected with an antidote that might have side effects-"

"What's worse than someone who becomes a Ripper when they have no humanity, also being a genetically modified Ripper? It's a bad combination, Damon." Stefan answers quietly, but there's a determination to his voice, and to his decision, that won't be broken easily. "I've held out for months, with temporary antidotes that numb the urges, and compulsions that always fade. I'm going to snap eventually, and I can't do that. So I'd rather take this risk and stop what I know is coming, because it's worth the risk."

"Not to me."

"That's not your decision. And you hate me anyway, so I didn't think you'd care." Stefan says simply, holding his brother's gaze. "This isn't about you, or us, Damon. This is about finding a cure, because if I don't I'll become a monster again. Worse than I was before, when I was just a Ripper, and I didn't think it could get worse than that. Not being able to control myself, becoming what I become..That's worse than what I was, and I can't go back down that road because I won't come back this time."

"You don't know what you're risking, what you're putting into your veins, into your body-"

"These past months, you haven't known. But you've been in there, and you've risked it, and you've let Natasha inject you with antidotes that haven't work. Some antidotes gave you problems, I know you didn't let on but you struggled at times."

"Struggle? It was no struggle, Stefan."

Stefan shakes his head, still holding Damon's gaze. He's going to fight this, Damon can tell, and he doesn't want to fight. Surprisingly, Damon wants to avoid a fight – but he's not going to give up easily, he's not going to let his brother become a test subject for the Rosenbergs.

"Natasha studied your symptoms, your reactions, to learn from them. You hallucinated, Damon. You lost your appetite entirely, and then it was back so fierce you nearly tore my throat out. Remember? Because I do. I remember. I remember that you put yourself through hell, and you put yourself at risk for this, and now it's my turn to do something. It's my turn to be tested on, Damon. You've endured enough."

Damon clenches his jaw together, fighting not to speak, fighting back the words that he wants to say. He wants to tell Stefan that he's endured a lot too, that he doesn't have to endure this, and that they'll find another way – but he can't break his brother's determination, and he can't change his mind. A feeling of hopelessness begins to come over Damon, as he watches Stefan walking towards the stairs. He hesitates, but follows his brother eventually, and when he reaches Natasha's room he discovers Stefan already inside, talking to Natasha quietly. He catches fragments of their conversation, muttered words.

"There might be side-effects, but this could work. Your brother's infection might be different to yours, Stefan. You could react differently."

"Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?" he asks quietly.

"Neither."

"Why do you care about us?"

There's a silence that follows, and in that silence Damon turns away from the room and walks towards the railing. He steps away from it a moment though, and ends up sitting on the floor outside of Natasha's bedroom, his back pressed to the wall and his ears picking up a few more fragments of a conversation he doesn't really care for.

"I don't care." Natasha says. "I'm doing this because I have a choice."

"You care. Even if it's not about us, you care about something. I can see it."

Damon tunes out of the conversation, his eyes tempted to shut, but they don't and instead he looks down the empty corridor. His eyes linger on the empty space beside him, and although this isn't the place where he and Johanna sat together, it's close to it and it reminds him of her.

_"Why does death follow us?" she'd asked that night._

He can't see her, not at all, not even a faint image of her. It's been months since he'd seen her, and all of this separation has left him aching, it left him broken. He doesn't think about that though, he doesn't think about his own feelings, because that's too selfish – but for now he makes an exception, now he allows himself a moment of selfishness.

_"Maybe, it's because we deserve it and it's just time until **it takes us**."_

There is a voice behind him that addresses him from Natasha's bedroom, but Damon ignores it and continues trying to picture her that night. She'd taken his hand, and held it, so softly and gingerly, and he almost smiles at that. He almost smiles at the words that come next, but he doesn't, because they hurt too much.

_"I will always be here for you too, Damon."_

"Damon, what's wrong?" Stefan appears in Damon's vision suddenly, kneeling down in front of him. "I've been talking to you. You haven't answered. What's wrong?"

Damon glances away from Stefan, and then stands up quickly. Stefan stands with him, and continues to watch him with the same, old look of concern that Damon hates. He doesn't want concern, he doesn't deserve it.

"What is it, Stefan?" he asks tiredly.

"You're not going to ask how it went?"

"How what went?"

Stefan frowns. "The injection. The cure."

"Oh, yeah. Unsuccessful, right?" Damon says flatly, glancing up.

"No, not unsuccessful."

This catches Damon's full attention, and a frown begins to form on his face. He looks at his brother closely, then looks back at Natasha, who is leaning against the door frame, still unable to step across due to the compulsion Damon placed on her.

"You're kidding."

"Cut yourself, see if I want to rip your head off." Stefan suggests. "That's the only way we'll know for sure. Natasha tested it with a bag of vampire blood in there, but it's different from the fresh stuff."

"Are your eyes red anymore?"

Stefan shakes his head. "No."

"What about the very unattractive veins all of over your face-"

"All gone." Natasha chimes in. "Now, I think that my part of the deal-"

"You're not done yet. Shut up." Damon focuses on Stefan. "Alright. Guess there's only one way to find out."

Damon lifts his palm to his mouth and tears open the skin harshly, and within seconds blood begins to spill heavily from the new wound, running down Damon's wrist. He watches Stefan closely for a reaction, all the while aware of the fact that if Stefan isn't cure this could turn out badly, that's just the risk that they have to take in this situation. Nothing happens. Stefan's eyes don't turn red, there aren't any dark veins spreading rapidly across his face, and he doesn't seem at all effected by the blood spilling out of the fresh wound. He has no apparent thirst for vampire blood.

"You're kidding me." Damon's words echo with disbelief.

Stefan shakes his head, almost smiling, but he seems to change his mind at the last minute, like he doesn't think it's right to be smiling in front of his brother after the past few months. The fact that Damon is still sick with the Ripper Compound, and Stefan has been cured, is probably weighing heavily on Stefan's mind, and Damon doesn't want that. Even after everything that they've been through, Damon doesn't want his brother to have this added guilt.

"So, what next?" Natasha asks.

Damon looks to her quickly. "Do you have more? For Enzo?"

She nods and disappears for a minute, returning to her desk to retrieve it, therefore giving the two brothers a moment without her presence. Damon watches as Stefan looks up at him again, a look of uncertainty in his eyes.

"This is good, Stefan. Out of the two of us, if anyone is unequipped to handle being a genetically modified Ripper, it's you. You know, with your whole Ripper past." Damon says slowly. "It's good that the cure worked for you. It could work on Enzo too, and if it works on you too then it's going to work on Johanna. Right?"

"What about you, Damon?"

"I'll find a way. I always do."

"Mmm." Stefan hums, not saying more, but it's clear that he disagrees with this.

The brothers share another look before they are interrupted by Natasha at the door, who is holding a needle in her hands. She holds it up, looking at Stefan briefly, before her eyes readjust on Damon. He's the one who compelled her to stay in the room, only he can break the compulsion.

"Save it, I'm not breaking the compulsion until we're all cured."

"Here's what we're going to do," Natasha says simply. "I'm going to create a few more batches of this, in case you infect some more of your friends. This one here is for Enzo. Another one will be for Johanna, and I'll even be unusually thoughtful and give you spares in case you screw up and bite someone again. Then I'll spend a few days trying to work on something for you, but if you don't let me out of here before then, if you don't let me get fresh air, I'm going to kill myself and then you'll never have a cure."

"I'll just compel you-"

"Damon, she's been in here for months. Let her go outside. Compel her not to do anything stupid, and let her have some fresh air. Let her walk on the grass."

"No."

Stefan shakes his head, voice firm when he speaks. "She found a cure, Damon. Not for you, but for me, and probably for Enzo and Johanna. She's going to work on finding a cure for you. Give her a break, please. She deserves it."

"Fine. Once we've tested this cure on Enzo, I'll take her outside. I just have to pick up a leash on the way."

Stefan glances back to Natasha briefly, and then looks to Damon as he steps forward, taking the antidote to the Ripper compound from her hands. He steps back over the boundary, holding her gaze.

"This works on Enzo, and maybe I'll let you outside." he says as he turns away, walking down to the cells. "Stay with her, Stefan. I'll do this alone, I have to."

When Stefan doesn't protest, but instead shows his agreement to this with a silent nod of his head, Damon walks down the stairs towards the cells, where he knows that he will find Cedric and Enzo. He doesn't want to involve his brother in this situation with Cedric, Damon doesn't want anyone else involved when they don't have to be, not when they still haven't discovered who was responsible for Katherine's murder and why.

Damon removes all thoughts of Katherine Pierce from his head and ventures down into the cells, where the faint sound of Enzo sobbing is the first thing that he hears. He clenches his jaw together tightly and stops walking, almost considering not going in there to see Enzo, to inject him with the possible cure, but he soon finds himself outside the doorway of the cell.

He lingers outside of the doorway, unannounced and unnoticed for the moment, and looks on as Cedric and Enzo sit together, with the larger man holding the weak, crumpled vampire up. Beyond the first glance Cedric looks weak too, and Damon finds himself silently questioning why he did this to them.

_Why did he put Enzo through this? Why did he put Cedric through hell before? _It wasn't worth it then, and it's not worth it in this moment, and now there's nothing that Damon can do but watch everything that these two have ever done, and even been put through, catch up to them in their moment of weakness.

Cedric glances up sometime later after noticing Damon in the doorway, and he noticeably tenses up, letting go of Enzo and standing up slowly. It's clear on his face that he really did believe that his visit here would remain private, and would pass unnoticed by those living at the Boarding House.

"What do you want, Damon?" Cedric asks, taking a step forward.

Enzo sits up and slowly directs his gaze to where Damon stands, and Enzo doesn't glance away after discovering him, he stares directly at Damon as he speaks.

"You." Enzo says. "What are you doing here? Come to bite me again? Or put me out of my misery, perhaps."

"I haven't come to do either of those things, Enzo, as tempting as they sound.."

"Do you think that this is funny, Damon? Is this some joke?" Cedric frowns. "This isn't a joke, this is someone's life-"

"Save it, Cedric. I came here because I have something for Enzo."

"I don't want anything from you. Nothing. You have given me a lifetime of misery, there is nothing else that you can give me now."

"Not even the cure to the Ripper Compound?" Damon steps inside the cell. "The cure that would heal you, and then allow you to be let out of this cell, into Cedric's care of course."

"Liar!" Enzo hisses, trying to stand up.

Cedric stops him and eases him back on the bed, before turning back to face Damon. "Is it true? Do you have it?"

Damon holds up the vial. "My brother just got cured. Now let's try it on you, if you're willing. And if this works, you're free to go, Enzo."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: So, I'm updating earlier than planned but I had this chapter finished and ready to post so..Here you go! Thanks for all the new follows/favorites on this story, I hope you're enjoying it. Let me know what you think of this chapter. What are your thoughts on the cure, do you think it will cure Enzo? And why isn't it working on Damon? And where is Johanna?**

**All will be revealed soon. :) Enjoy. The next one will be posted soon. x**

**Adela - chapter 5: Thank you for your review! You're right, they're so close to Johanna. Probably closer than you think. ;) Enjoy!**


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